


Beyond Recognition

by lbc



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M, non-consenual partner assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbc/pseuds/lbc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie and Doyle are in a relationship, but Bodie goes on a six month undercover op and is captured.  After he is rescued, he returns as a different person with disastrous consequences to the partnership and to Ray Doyle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Recognition

Beyond Recognition  
LBC

 

Raymond Doyle stood in the middle of his CI5 flat as if he were in a trance. The 37 year old agent had been with CI5 for seven years, just as he had known his partner for those same seven years, but in Bodie’s case, Doyle felt that he had known his partner and best friend for much longer. He had felt, almost from the first that he knew Bodie very well and could recognize his partner under any circumstances. This was the primary reason that he now stood in his less-than luxurious flat staring at the dingy walls that had seen many agents come and go.

Raymond Doyle now knew that he had been wrong all these years: he didn’t know William Andrew Philip Bodie at all. He had known that for sure in those terrifying moments when his friend had come very close to raping him.

His Bodie had not always been his friend. In fact, when the two agents had met for the first time in Cowley’s office and had been introduced, the tension was so thick that if someone had walked into the office at the moment, they would have felt as if they had run into a wall.

It was to Cowley’s credit that he saw beyond the two men’s credentials and background and put the two men together. The two men had often been called Chalk and Cheese and it certainly was true. Doyle, the ex-copper who had suffered for his rigid insistence on absolute honesty and integrity; and Bodie, the ex-merc who was the perfect replica of Mr. Churchill’s enigma seemed to be total opposites. Bodie had done more in his 30+ years than most men would ever do in two lifetimes. He knew much of the world and had suffered for that knowledge.

Cowley prided himself on knowing his men well and being able to judge them accurately, but Bodie and Doyle would eventually prove Cowley wrong because the Controller of CI5 would never recognize in the entire time the two men were partnered that they would become lovers nor that Bodie would destroy that remarkable relationship by doing his best to rape his partner.

BDBDBDBDBDBDBDB

The road to the destruction of the most formidable partnership in CI5’s history was indeed fraught with boulders the size of Mt. Everest, or at the very least, K2. Months into their partnership the two men were still competing with each other. Bodie constantly looked down his upturned nose at Doyle’s credentials. More than once he had criticized Doyle for the copper in him, but he had to admit that Doyle’s investigative techniques had come in handy on many of their early ops. 

As soon as Doyle had heard that Bodie was not only ex-Army but an ex-merc, his hostility rose exponentially with every incident in which Bodie ran full bore into the action without thought for the potential dangers. Of course, it didn’t help that Doyle was constantly reminding him of his time in Ireland, or in other violent places in the world. A major showdown had come to pass when Doyle had reminded Bodie that he was like the man lying on the ground, Enrico Krivas.

Doyle often wondered for months after that incident of the two former mercs confronting each other, if Bodie would have shot Krivas if Doyle hadn’t compared the two men in an unfavourable light.

Gradually, however, the two men had formed a partnership that could work and although both men planned to ask for re-assignment at the end of their initial six-months of partnership, the streets taught the two men to trust and work together. Bodie, the loner who had run away to sea at the age of 14, and Doyle, the product of an era of foster homes, who had severely knifed a boy at 15, created a duo that was greater than the sum of their two selves. By the end of the first year of their partnership, they were no longer thinking about splitting up because now it seemed to be them against the world, or at least, the scum and villainy of England.

That was especially true when a man named Preston decided to get his revenge against Raymond Doyle. The resulting threat pushed the two men closer together. By the end of it, Raymond Doyle had realized that his relationship with Bodie had become so deep that he counted on Bodie to save him, no matter what occurred. Even more evident to Bodie’s devastating dedication to Doyle was his very real threat, made in Cowley’s presence, to slit Kathy Mason’s throat if she didn’t provide the information about Doyle’s whereabouts. Cowley never hesitated in thinking that Bodie would fulfill his promise because Raymond Doyle’s life had become the agent’s number one priority. Indeed, in that moment, George Cowley realized that his experiment in throwing the Bisto Kids together had worked much better than he had ever dreamed. Needless to say, the events to come shook George Cowley to his very core.

BDBDBD

Doyle shook himself out of his trance. Seven years of trust and friendship were gone. His ribs still hurt from the attack. Since Bodie’s attempted rape, Doyle had repeated to himself over and over again that he had really misjudged the ex-merc. Doyle would have sworn that he knew Bodie better than anybody, even Cowley, and that he would never hurt his partner, let alone try to dominate him through rape.

Doyle had not told anyone what had happened. He had refused to go to the doctor and certainly had never revealed anything to Cowley, or even worse, to Kate Ross. Why was he protecting Bodie? Why was he still loyal to the . . . bastard, who had shoved him down on the floor and tried to humiliate him with sickening words and rough behaviour? Doyle had refused to talk about the incident or the injuries that were evident, even when Cowley had threatened him with suspension. The Controller’s consternation was at its height when soon after the attack Doyle asked for another partner, but Doyle would explain nothing else.

The words kept going through Doyle’s mind, like a great loop, “I thought I knew Bodie.” The last few weeks after Bodie’s return from a six month undercover assignment proved, however, that Raymond Doyle definitely did not know his partner, and most assuredly had never known him.

The few days since the attack and Doyle’s partner reassignment had been fraught with emotion. He knew that Cowley had called Bodie in to discuss the partner change, but he had only heard the results of the meeting: Bodie had agreed to the change - - nothing else was known, but Doyle couldn’t hide his bruises completely so the rumour mill at CI5 had been busy with speculation.

Murphy, bless him, had not asked Doyle about the switch in partners even though this affected Murphy as well since Cowley had assigned Murphy to be his new partner for the next case. The days on the op proved to be long and torturous for Doyle and Murphy. Even though Bodie wasn’t on the op and occupying space in the small flat that Doyle and Murphy were using to observe the flat across the street, his presence was felt. 

Although Doyle didn’t acknowledge it, he knew that Murphy would sneak looks at him to see if the curly-haired man was all right. Doyle appreciated Murphy’s concern, but 4.5 was too exhausted from recent events to even pretend to be reasonably normal.

As the surveillance was long and boring, Doyle had plenty of time to dwell on the events that had so shaken his world. Not all of his thoughts dwelt on Doyle’s perception of the monster that Bodie had become. In fact, Doyle’s memories of his relationship with his former partner were often sentimental. Those memories seemed to form a pattern - - a pattern of comfort, remembering what Doyle would have to classify as “the good times”.

Sitting on the single bed in the dilapidated flat, Doyle’s mind wandered to the first time that Doyle realized how very little he really knew about the man who had, at that time, been his partner for less than six months. As usual, Murphy was the catalyst for this memory as he would become for so many of Doyle’s memories.

Murphy had announced that he was going to have a small engagement party at his flat. He promised to introduce his fiancée to a select group of ”chosen few” at a party. Doyle had got there late. He had immediately been told that he was lucky because Cowley had already left so the drinking was a bit freer among those agents who were not on duty the next day. Doyle looked around the room for the lovely lady and finally spotted her talking intimately with Murphy. Walking over to the couple, Doyle put out his hand to clap Murphy on the back and offer his congratulations. Murphy, ever the gentleman, introduced his fiancée to Doyle but was unable to say much more as other guests stopped by.

As the drinks were free flowing, Doyle decided to allow the louder individuals to take over the area around the happy couple. Finally, Murphy motioned for silence as he had a major announcement to make. Since this is what everyone had come for (after the booze), most of the agents were now silent.

Murphy smiled, putting his arm around his lady love, and said, “Thank you for coming. As you know I have been a bachelor for quite a while and I know there have been lotteries about when I would find the girl of my dreams. Well here she is. I hope you will welcome her into the CI5 family.”

Cheers broke out while raucous whistling pierced the air. Suddenly, “Speech, speech, speech,” broke out among the less-than-sober attendees. It was obvious that the bride-to-be was embarrassed but a familiar voice suddenly broke the brouhaha and silenced everyone. In a slightly falsetto voice, the “lady” began to speak, “Thank you everyone; I know that Murphy and I will be very happy together once he gets his sex change operation.” Removing his outer garments, Bodie appeared under the make-up and clothing causing shouts, laughter and jeers to break out.

Chaos reigned for the next several minutes and agents pounded each other on the back, claiming that “they had known all the time”, as well as several rounds of toasts were offered to “the happy couple.”

Finally, after both Bodie and Murphy had been treated to much back slapping and crude language, Bodie made it across the room to where Doyle stood. For once, Bodie seemed insecure and asked tentatively, “What’d ya think?”

After having just spent months in the company of the man standing before him and never seeing him laugh or joke or even put himself in a position to receive any derision, Doyle was amazed to see this other side of the man who he had privately called Old Stick In The Mud. Doyle’s reaction was just as tentative as Bodie’s had been. “I’m not sure what to say. I certainly didn’t recognize you. Maybe if I had more time, but, on the whole you did a great job. Who’s your make-up artist?”

“I did it all myself, you moron. Do you think I’d go to somebody and ask them to do this to me?”

Doyle gave a small smirk and said in a low voice so no one else could hear, “I never knew you had a sense of humour. You’ve been keeping it hidden.” Then taking a chance, Doyle continued with, “Since you never let me into your private life, I wasn’t really sure how much you were pretending.”

For a moment, Bodie seemed to be irate, but then his deep blue eyes began to twinkle as he whispered back, “Well, maybe we can do something about that. That is - - if you get the chip off your shoulder, I might surprise you.”

Doyle’s green eyes darkened to emerald as he began to retaliate and then stopped, smiling hesitantly he said, “All right. I guess I can do that, but you better get the rest of your make-up off ‘cause Anson’s over there giving you the eye.”

Bodie started laughing and walked away, but from that moment on, the relationship between the two men began to change. The competition was less and the camaraderie began to grow. By the end of the first year of partnership, neither man thought about changing partners. That didn’t, however, mean that the two agents always got along as partners. There were the constant ups and downs of working with someone who protected your back out on the streets. Doyle had, early on, made his opinion of Bodie perfectly clear when he had thrown the sarcastic remark at the combative Bodie about his similarity to Enrico Krivas, but the more telling remark about Bodie came later as Doyle admitted that Bodie was there to save him when the forces of Preston and Preston threatened Doyle’s life.

Doyle was the first to admit that his perception of Bodie had changed, but he was also the first to admit that just because he and Bodie had become friends didn’t mean he completely understood the enigma that was William Bodie. There was a very big gap between recognizing someone by their aftershave, their heady essence, and their physique, and understanding what made that same person tick. Raymond Doyle had to admit that seeing into the very soul of William Bodie was well beyond his capacity.  
Nothing was better evidence of this lack of perception that occurred during the middle years of their partnership when a woman almost broke them up. Ann Holly’s name still rankled the often placid texture of their relationship. Doyle now knew that Bodie had lied to him when he had said that he liked Ann. Bodie despised the red-haired woman, not only for her nose-in-the -air attitude, but also for her expectations of changing Doyle to fit the mould that she wanted. When she walked away, Bodie was delighted and was there to pick up the pieces, but Doyle wasn’t the least bit grateful and was still pissed off by Bodie’s behaviour . 

Even though he would not admit it, Doyle only too readily blamed Bodie’s military/mercenary background for much of Bodie’s poor judgement. Unfortunately, soon after the misunderstanding over Ann Holly had come a much more serious threat to the partnership. Doyle totally misjudged Bodie’s feelings about King Billy, seriously underestimating Bodie’s behaviour.

It didn’t help when Cowley threw the accusation at Doyle of not backing up his partner, but Doyle was mired in his doubts about why Bodie was behaving the way he was. Time and again, Doyle told himself that maybe he didn’t understand Bodie as well as he thought he did, and that certainly he shouldn’t be surprised about Bodie since the ex-merc’s background had no doubt polluted his very character.

Doyle’s near death experience opened his eyes once again to a rarely seen side of WAP Bodie. Bodie was the perfect mate during the months of pain and despair. Bodie was always there, practically living in Doyle’s new flat, constantly encouraging Doyle to push himself to return to the ranks of CI5. In some ways, Doyle began to think that it was more important to Bodie than Doyle’s desire to return to CI5.

The relationship grew closer and by the time Doyle returned to the ranks of the agents, the two men were very close. By the time when Ojuka was fighting for his life, Doyle’s priapismic monster had shown evidence of his devotion to Doyle by disobeying Cowley’s direct orders to go to Doyle’s rescue. It was there on the steps of the Ojuka apartment building when Doyle shot the thug getting ready to do bodily harm to Bodie that Doyle realized how important his tall, dark-haired partner was to him. “I wasn’t thinking of Ojuka” became etched on Doyle’s heart and certainly encouraged the slender man’s previously forbidden thoughts about loving Bodie.

After Cowley had taken Ojuka away and the villains had been led to gaol, the two men had gone their separate ways, especially since Doyle wanted to treat his burned wrists. It was a few hours later that their partnership as well as their relationship turned upside down.

Doyle’s painful wrists had not improved so he was definitely thinking of having an early evening. He had even taken some pain killer to give himself a better chance at resting, but miraculously Bodie had shown up and suddenly the two men’s knowledge of each other had increased a hundred fold - - they had become lovers.   
Now months later, Doyle was able to see the intimacy for what it was. They had had sex over the next six months. Bodie had set the parameters and Doyle had gone along with it, sure that after a little while, Bodie would come to want what Doyle had already decided that he wanted. They would become lovers in the true sense of the word. And then . . . and then while lying together in Doyle’s bed, Bodie had made an announcement which devastated Doyle to the utter core of his being.

While they never cuddled nor kissed that much, due to Bodie’s edict, they often lay in each other’s arms after having sex. Bodie would seldom stay the whole evening, but this night, Bodie seemed reluctant to go. Doyle was soon to find out why.

Bodie lay on his left side, holding Doyle in his arms. The two men were covered in sweat and semen. They were pleasantly tired after the cataclysmic orgasm that the men had enjoyed. Doyle was almost asleep when Bodie whispered into the darkness of the bedroom, “Cowley’s asked me to go undercover, starting in a few hours.”  
Doyle immediately raised his head and tried to peer into the darkness, “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Just found out yesterday; didn’t quite know how to tell you.”

“Oh well, I guess I can stand to be away from you for a week or two. What kind of job is it?”

“Cowley wants me to infiltrate a group of real baddies. I vaguely know a few of them. They probably think I’m still a merc so it shouldn’t be too difficult. The only trouble is that Cowley’s planning for it to last six months.”

“SIX MONTHS?? Is he out of his mind? What kind of job takes six months?”

“Listen, these guys are some of the worst scum bags on this earth. I’m going to have to go very slowly. I won’t have any contact with CI5 so I’m on my own. I want to get these guys, Ray, so this is planned down to every second, don’t you see?”

“I . . . I guess, but why can’t you have some backup?”

“Too dangerous, but I would like to discuss something with you when I get back. I think it’s about time.”

“Why don’t we discuss it now, if it’s so important?”

“No, it can wait. I don’t want to have anything else on my mind, can’t you understand that?”

“Sure, but it’s going to be a long time without you.”

“Hey, don’t get so sentimental. Call up your birds and bed them. Six months will pass in no time.”

Doyle tried to cover the dismay he felt at those words by cuddling closer to the body that he loved, but all too soon, Bodie left the bed, showered, and left for his undercover assignment. He didn’t even look back at Doyle as he left the flat. Doyle stood there for a long time, not realizing that the next time he would see the handsome, Bodie would be beyond recognition.

Part 2

SIX MONTHS LATER  
It had been a very long six months for Doyle. Bodie had remained virtually in communicado out of necessity. He had managed to send a few brief messages, but the all-important one that the gang was ready to be arrested never seemed to arrive. Doyle was practically climbing the walls and invading Cowley’s domain, demanding to know the status of the investigation each and every day. Cowley had become so tired of seeing 4.5’s face that he threatened to second him to whatever law enforcement there was in the Outer Hebrides if the slender but extremely vocal agent didn’t cease and desist.

Then came an ominous message from one of Doyle’s snitches that Bodie had been captured. Doyle was preparing to strike out on his own to go find his partner when a snitch came up with the all-important information of where Bodie was being held. 

Rushing to the site which was miles away from London took some time, but Doyle, Murphy, Anson and the rest of the agents assigned to the case managed to make it there in record time. Preparing for the worst, Murphy initially insisted on going in first with Anson and others, but the glare from Doyle quickly halted that suggestion. Within minutes the rescue force was inside the large abandoned building. A brief search resulted in the discovery of a very much alive but injured and unconscious Bodie.  
As 3.7 was being transported by helicopter to London, he managed to awaken one time, breathily whispering one word, “Huddersfield”. The immediate assumption was that that was where the gang had gone and the chase was on.

Doyle did not participate in the final round-up of the ex-merc/terrorists that Bodie had been investigating for the last six months. He returned to London with the injured Bodie, but was quickly separated from his partner by Cowley’s orders.

“Doyle, you will allow the doctors to deal with Bodie’s injuries. I have asked Dr. Ross to visit 3.7 as well. He has been undercover for a long time. That and his injuries make it mandatory that he be examined by Dr. Ross and be passed fit for duty by her recommendation as well as mine. I do not want you undermining her work, do you understand?”

Doyle merely nodded, planning how to circumvent these orders but readily understanding the need for Ross’ intervention. Doyle had gone deep undercover a few times, and he easily understood the need for counseling after the deep emotional trauma that often resulted from this kind of work. After getting Cowley to agree to keep him updated on Bodie’s physical status, Doyle left to go find Murphy. They had been assigned another surveillance op.

Sitting in the Capri next to Murphy, Doyle was the epitome of a torture victim sitting on a bed of fire ants. He could not get comfortable; he could not find a slouch position that didn’t drive him crazy, and his mouth and hands kept him in constant motion. Finally, Murphy had had enough, “Doyle, what is the matter with you? I know you’re worried about Bodie, but we’ve got a job to do and it’s perfectly plain that your wee brain is somewhere else. Do you want me to call HQ and asked for a replacement?”  
At first Doyle gave him his legendary green-eyed monster glare, but when that failed to intimidate Murphy, Doyle closed his eyes and slouched back in his seat. “Sorry Murph, I know I’m being a pain, but I haven’t seen Bodie in six months. You could tell that they worked him over pretty well. I think he had a concussion, and you know how the effects from one of those can affect a person a long time after the beating. He didn’t even seem to recognize me when I spoke to him.

Murphy’s deep brown eyes softened as he looked at the unhappy man. He had long suspected that Bodie and Doyle had become extremely close during their seven year partnership, despite the non-fraternization policy. Murphy did not honestly know how he would be feeling about now, if it was his lover who had been found with extensive injuries after being missing for an extended amount of time.

“Come on, Doyle, you know that Bodie’s tough. He’ll be fine. Meanwhile, we’ve got a job to do and Father will chew our arses if we don’t keep focused.”  
“Yeah, I know, but Cowley’s insisting that Bodie get the full deal with Ross doing a full psychological work up on him. Remember how long that can take? What if they won’t let me see him at all?”

“You’ll endure, Doyle, just as we all have to do. Remember when Dreissinger had Bodie? You almost went off the deep end then, but you saved him, and you two will do the same thing this time. You two are always better as a team.”

Doyle stared straight into Murphy’s all-knowing eyes for several seconds, reading 6.2’s compassion and understanding. For the first time, Doyle realized just how much Murphy really understood about his relationship with Bodie. Everything had to be all right. What would he do without Bodie?

The next week crawled along. Murphy and Doyle surveilled, and Bodie gradually recovered. Cowley reported to Doyle that his partner seemed to be having trouble remembering certain things. His memory was very spotty which the doctor said could be a result of the concussion and the injuries inflicted upon him. Bodie had been turned over to Ross’ tender care. Cowley refused to allow Doyle to see 3.7. There was nothing further to report since Ross refused to update Doyle on Bodie’s progress while in her clutches.

By the end of the first week of incarceration at Asylum Ross, Doyle was ready to don his black housebreaker gear and spring the now physically recovered Bodie from Katie’s clutches. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite sure where Bodie was so when he had returned to his flat, Doyle’s depression seemed to permeate his mood so much that he threw off all his clothes, as if that would rid him of the shell that had enclosed him ever since Bodie had left to go undercover.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door; throwing on an old, worn-out robe, Doyle went to the door, and without the usual precaution opened it. Bodie stood on the other side of the door. Doyle’s heart flip-flopped as he recognized the man that he loved, but Bodie’s cold, hard stare did not reassure him.

“Bodie, I didn’t know that Katie had given you your walking papers, I would have . . .” Doyle got no further as Bodie swept into the room, slamming the door with a hard push. 

Doyle stared at the man who looked like Bodie, but in that moment Doyle felt a frisson of fear. Doyle told himself that it was ridiculous to be afraid of Bodie, but in the next few seconds, he had living proof of why that feeling was only too viable.

Without a word, Bodie grabbed Doyle and threw him down on the settee, pulling at the robe’s belt so that Doyle’s naked body was revealed. Pressing his body weight on Doyle’s legs, Bodie held Doyle’s arms above his head and sneered at him with an ugly smile, “Just as I thought. Waitin’ for someone, were ya, you cunt? Didn’t expect me, did ya?”

Doyle tried to calm himself as Bodie’s considerable weight held him almost motionless. “What are you talking about? I just got home from a hard day and I wanted to . . .”  
Bodie’s calloused hand promptly slapped Doyle’s unprotected face, rattling Doyle’s teeth and causing a red mark on his cheek. “I know what you wanted to do, all right. I’ll bet you’ve been doin’ it every chance you got since I’ve been gone. Was it Murphy? I knew you spread it around, but you like to do it with your partners, don’t you? And I was dumb enough to fall for it. Well, I’m going to give it to you, just like you’ve been giving it to all those bastards all these months.”

Bodie forced Doyle’s slender shoulders over so that his back was exposed. Without a word of warning, Bodie rammed two fingers into Doyle’s anus. Letting out a scream, Doyle was overwhelmed by the pain that totally seized his body. Through a depth of pain, Doyle hadn’t known since being shot, Doyle gasped, “Bodie, stop it. You don’t have to do it this way. I . . “

Once again, Bodie didn’t let Doyle finish. Unzipping his trousers, Bodie’s face turned extremely ugly as he barked out, “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. As soon as I loosen you up a bit more, I’ll give it to you like you never had it from any other of those fags.” Doyle thought he would pass out as the two fingers were rammed home once again.  
Doyle knew that if he didn’t stop Bodie now that Bodie would indeed rape him. He tried to stall for time, “Bodie, please couldn’t you use something, I’m dry? There’s been no one else, please.”

For a moment Bodie seemed hesitant then the confusion cleared and once again, Bodie yelled out, “Yeah, next you’ll tell me that I’m the first, you liar. I know you now, Doyle. You’ve been stringing me along, you fag. Well, I’m not a shirt lifter, and never will be. You tried to corrupt me and you’re going to pay for it, the hard way.”  
Bodie’s emotions were so great that his arousal had to be taken care of. Standing up to release his trousers and briefs, he provided that small moment that Doyle was looking for. With all his remaining strength, Doyle used his powerful legs to push Bodie back. In his vulnerable position, Bodie could not regain his balance and fell heavily against the lamp stand nearby. He hit his head in almost the same place where he had been injured before and was badly stunned.

Quickly, Doyle got up from the settee and tied his robe around him, while grabbing a heavy motorcycle part that he had been planning to clean. Holding it up as a shield, Doyle stood gasping for breath and looking at Bodie. Normally he would have rushed to his partner’s side to find out if he was all right, but the man in front of him was no longer the man that he knew and trusted. The only thing Doyle wanted now was to get Bodie out of his flat.

Gradually Bodie regained some semblance of alertness. He looked up at Doyle and smirked, “Bet you don’t fight the others off, do you? Okay, if you want to play hard-to-get, go ahead. You’re not worth my bother. You weren’t that great in bed, anyhow.” Gingerly getting to his feet, Bodie headed for the door, keeping a wary eye on Doyle, who kept his distance from the slightly staggering man.

Doyle tried to tell himself that this was Bodie, but the filthy words coming from his mouth helped weaken his concern. Nevertheless, Doyle asked, “You okay? You need a doctor?”

“I don’t need nothing from you, pussy. I don’t want you as a friend, or a partner, and definitely not that scrawny body. Probably would have injured meself on your bones. Just let me out of here, and we’re finished.”

Doyle said nothing as the physical and emotional pain overwhelmed him. He merely motioned Bodie to leave which he did without further words. Doyle rushed to the door to lock it and make sure the alarm was set; then he slid down the wall in total collapse. The pain in his anus was so terrible, however, that within moments, he had to move. Practically crawling to his loo, Doyle treated himself, checking for blood and tears. Finding little, Doyle put a small amount of lukewarm water in the tub and lowered himself into the water. The searing pain tore at his innards, but he endured it then got out, barely drying off.

Somehow managing to make it to his bed, Doyle collapsed upon it in a prone position. Gradually Doyle’s trauma wore off enough that he was able to crawl under the duvet and warm himself. For the next several hours, Doyle lay there unable to do anything except relentlessly go over the events of a few hours before. As dawn finally reached his darkened bedroom, Doyle had made up his mind. He would not report Bodie, but he could not face working with him anymore. His near rape had opened his eyes to the real Bodie - - the Bodie, who had received a vast education in inhuman behaviour in the jungles of Africa as well as other sites where inhumanity was the norm. No, he would not report Bodie, but neither would he continue to be his partner either. 

Doyle knew that he was in no shape to report for work that morning, so he called CI5 and reported in sick. The mere verbalization of those words resulted in Doyle rushing into the loo and trying to wretch every organ in his body into the toilet. After cleaning himself up and drinking some tea to prevent dehydration, Doyle went back to bed where he made his plans for the future - - a future without Bodie.

BDBDBDBDBD

“What happened to your head, Bodie?” asked Kate Ross.

“I bumped it.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“What else did you do? You know I asked you to stay at home and relax. I tried to contact you to change the time of this appointment, but you weren’t home.”

A sad smile entered the blue eyes, “Oh, I just went out to have a bit of fun.”

“You didn’t go drinking, did you?”

“Nah, I remembered what you said about drinking, so I just went out for a few minutes. Really nothing, Doc. Nothing at all!”

Kate Ross looked at Bodie. He seemed so different from even a few days ago. Although she continued the interview, she resolved she would have to talk to Cowley about her suspicions that all was not right with Bodie.

Part 3

George Cowley knew that something was seriously wrong with his best team. He hadn’t been concerned when he had assigned Bodie to the six month undercover assignment. The team would adjust, they always had, but when Bodie had been freed from captivity, 3.7 had been unconscious from a serious beating. Cowley ordered both a thorough physical and psychological examination for the injured man. A week had gone by. Bodie was awake, but strangely he had not asked about Doyle, and since Ross had forbidden any visitors, the Bisto Kids had still not seen each other except for the few minutes in the helicopter.

Then Doyle had called in sick yesterday and this morning had asked to see Cowley. Doyle looked terrible with bruises on his face and an even stranger look in his green eyes. No matter what Cowley tried, even with the threat of suspension, Doyle refused to elaborate on what had happened to him. The end result was that Cowley granted Doyle’s request for a reassignment of a partner.

Cowley knew that Kate Ross had seen Bodie every day for more than a week. She reported her progress which seemed to be very little. She expected to see Bodie again this morning because all of his extensive physical test results were complete and she expected to discuss them with Bodie. The Iron Doctor as Bodie and Doyle called Ross had already contacted Cowley about having a meeting with him before she met with Bodie. Cowley had made up his mind that he was going to put Bodie on sick leave to give him time to recover from his recent injuries, no matter what Ross’ report was.

Hearing a knock on his door, Cowley called, “Enter,” wherein Kate Ross hurtled into the room much like a tornado, a look of concern on her face. “Mr. Cowley, I’ve just been going over Bodie’s medical results, and I believe we have a serious problem.”

“His concussion is more serious than we thought?”

“His concussion has resulted in some amnesia about certain events, but what I was referring to was his blood tests. They indicate that while in captivity he was administered a series of injections with a drug that leaves a person highly susceptible to hypnotism and verbal suggestion. I don’t know how long he was in captivity, but it appears that there was ample time for a whole series of these injections. I observed that he seemed different last week - - almost a different man. I realize that is not a technical diagnosis, but over the years I have had ample opportunity to watch and profile both Bodie and Doyle. Mr. Cowley, it is my most urgent opinion that Bodie be removed from active service and given a whole range of psychological tests to determine how badly he was affected by this most recent captivity.”

While Kate Ross’ demand certainly fit in with Cowley’s own thoughts, he was still Controller of CI5 and had to deal with the realities of the job. With Doyle asking for reassignment, and Bodie no longer active, he would have to juggle the work loads of several other agents, so he had to be sure.

“Doctor, are you aware that 4.5 has requested a new partner? Has Bodie revealed to you any reason why Doyle should want to do so?”

“No, sir. He has not. In fact, Bodie has not been permitted to leave this building for the last week. Only the day before yesterday, did I even permit him to return to his flat. His progress seemed to be so remarkable after the first few days that I thought a day or two in his own flat would be quite beneficial.”

Cowley stared at the woman for a few moments then queried, “Did Bodie mention if he had seen Doyle in his time away from here?”

“No, he did not, but when I asked him what he had done, he said that he had gone out and had a bit of fun.”

Something about that phrase bothered Cowley a great deal, but before he could say anything, a loud report sounded throughout the building. It was clearly a gun shot. Both Cowley and Ross reacted immediately, heading for the door which suddenly opened with a gasping Anson, holding onto the door frame as if he was about to collapse. Taking a second to ascertain that Cowley and Ross were there, Anson shouted out in a clear and decisive voice, “Sir, Bodie, 3.7, has just shot Doyle!”

All three individuals ran down the corridor to the stairs which led to the lower floor, with Anson leading the way. By the time they got to the foyer entrance to the rear of CI5, the situation was clearly under control. Doyle was lying on the floor with his head cradled in Murphy’s lap. There was blood covering his right shoulder area. His eyes were closed, but Murphy was talking to him; emergency personnel arrived just after the trio did. Ross rushed to Doyle’s side while Cowley went over to see to Bodie, who was being held in place on his knees by two agents who had the formidable man’s hands cuffed behind him. It was readily apparent that Bodie was in no shape to give further trouble. In fact, he seemed almost in a state of catatonia, totally unaware of what was going on around him.

Within moments, Dr. Ross and the CI5 emergency doctor had Doyle on a gurney, headed for the ambulance which had appeared at the entrance to the building. Bodie was hustled away to the CI5 emergency medical area for observation and a determination of what should be done about the man who had just shot his friend and partner.  
Turning to Dr. Ross, Cowley said, “I will leave it to you to go with Bodie and make the decision about Bodie’s disposition. Please keep me updated; I will be at hospital.”  
“Of course, sir, but observing Bodie’s almost listless state I think that he will need a private area where he can be made comfortable until I can examine him more thoroughly.”

“Very well. I will leave that to you. Murphy and I will be at hospital if you need me.”

Motioning Murphy to follow him, the two men walked to Cowley’s car. Cowley got in the driver’s side and allowed the obviously shaken Murphy to relax in the passenger’s side. Pulling out of the parking area, Cowley waited a moment or two then said, “All right, now tell me what happened.”

Murphy sat with his eyes closed for several minutes, obviously pulling himself together. “Doyle met me in the foyer. As you know we were assigned to meet the Minister when he came for a visit so after Doyle had met with you, he met me in the foyer. We were just standing there talking, while waiting to be told when the Minister had arrived, when I caught movement coming towards us. I guess Doyle saw the direction of my stare and turned around. It was Bodie; he was standing about 15 yards away from us, when he reached behind him and pulled out a .45 and aimed directly at Doyle. He said something like, ‘I knew it was you and Murphy, you fag. Then he . . . shot Ray.”  
Cowley allowed Murphy to have a moment or two to regain his composure then asked, “Did he say anything else?”

“I thought he said something about Doyle being scum and deserved to die then he fired the one shot.”

“What did he do then?”

He fell to the ground on his knees and dropped his head to his chest. Philips and Rogers didn’t have any trouble cuffing him. He just kneeled there as if . . .”

“As if, what?”

“As if he didn’t care what happened after that.”

Cowley pulled into the hospital emergency parking area, leaving Murphy to deal with the official paperwork. Within minutes, the doctor from A & E was with Cowley, explaining Doyle’s condition. “Your man was very lucky, George. Must have been an amateur who did the deed.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, if the shooter was only 15 yards away, how could he have failed to have been more accurate with his aim? That is, of course, if he was really trying to kill the subject?”  
Cowley’s blue eyes stared at the doctor in amazement. Bodie was the second best marksman with a handgun in CI5. Surely, if he had wanted to kill, he would have. What did that mean for Bodie’s state of mind? Did he want to kill Doyle or didn’t he?

“Is Doyle conscious?”

“Yes, his wound is being dressed now. We’ll keep him overnight and give him some blood, but he should be able to leave tomorrow. What about the shooter, George? “  
“He wasn’t wounded. He’s being seen to by Dr. Ross right now.”

Recognizing the name of the CI5 Psychiatrist, Dr. Stevens immediately nodded, “I see, well, give us a few more minutes with Doyle and then you can visit him.”  
Murphy and Cowley sat down and waited. The silence was heavy between the two men. Both men had known Bodie and Doyle for a long time. Murphy knew about the intimate nature of their relationship, and Cowley understood the deeply forged trust that had become the bedrock of their partnership. What would happen now? Could a partnership survive one partner shooting the other while hurling ugly insults in front of various CI5 personnel? And what if the shooting had taken place while the Minister was in the building? Could anything have kept a news leak even if a D-Notice had been slapped on the event? Was that the motive behind this whole thing? A shiver went down Cowley’s spine as he remembered how he had felt with the Wakeman attempt to purge CI5. Was this the beginning of another onslaught?

Part 4

Minutes later, although it seemed like hours, George Cowley entered Doyle’s private room. Normally CI5 would not have paid for such extravagance, but it was important that Doyle remain isolated. Not only was he concerned about the two young men involved in this situation, but individuals such as Geraldine Mather were just looking for excuses to put CI5 under the microscope. One CI5 agent shooting another one, who had been his partner, was the stuff where scandal and destruction lay.   
Besides, Doyle needed the privacy. Cowley could only guess how Doyle was feeling at the moment. Doyle had been shot by the man who had been his partner for a number of years. Cowley also suspected that Doyle’s mind would be further disturbed by the knowledge that the damage had been done by the man that he had been intimate with. There were going to be some very long days ahead.

Entering Doyle’s room, Cowley saw the slender figure looking particularly small due to his huddled down position. Doyle’s eyes were closed, the bruises from a few days before now garish colours of purple and yellow. Cowley’s thoughts were a kaleidoscope of questions, but he knew one thing absolutely: Raymond Doyle’s allegiance to one person was supreme, and that that allegiance had now been severely tried.

“Doyle?”

For a moment, the heavy eyelids failed to open but finally they lifted slowly showing the bloodshot green orbs that spoke volumes about Doyle’s trauma. “Yes sir.”

“How are you feeling? They said they’ve got you on medication?” Cowley noticed the two bags hanging from their hangers. Cowley could not read the words on one of them, but the other clearly was blood.

“Can’t feel much right now - - sort of numb.”

“Well, I won’t bother you right now. I’ll send Murphy in tomorrow to get your statement. Get some rest.”

Cowley headed towards the door then turned as Doyle asked, “Is Murphy all right? He was right behind me; he didn’t get hit, did he?”

“No, he’s fine. In fact, he’s outside right now waiting for me. See you tomorrow, 4.5.”

Doyle said nothing more so Cowley departed. As he walked towards the exit, he stopped in the middle of the corridor, causing a miniature traffic jam. George Cowley had always prided himself on noticing everything, but only now did he realize that Doyle had only asked about his present partner, Murphy, and had said nothing about the man who had shot him, William Bodie, his partner of seven years.

Cowley returned to CI5 to find out where Bodie was being detained. Kate Ross informed him that she had set up a security area with viewing windows for Bodie’s detainment. As of now the agent seemed to be in a somewhat catatonic state, saying nothing and noticing nothing. She had tried to speak with him, but he had failed to respond. She had noticed, however, that he seemed to make a hand gesture on a random basis. She promised to keep Cowley informed.

Within minutes, Cowley was once again deep in the never ending work of CI5. The Minister had somehow found out about the shooting so Cowley now had an appointment with him to discuss the situation. The fact that the Minister would have been in the building if the shooting had been a few minutes later spoke of some type of planning so that the maximum scandal and disrepute could have been levered against the whole episode.

Hours later, Kate Ross knocked on Cowley’s door. She entered at Cowley’s bidding, placing a folder on Cowley’s desk. “Dr. Carstairs did a more extensive medical exam on Bodie, looking for further information about the drugs that were used on him. He seems to have been in a fight since his last exam. He said nothing to me about it when I questioned him about his absence from CI5. Do you have any idea what could have happened?”

“Not for sure, but I fear Dr. Ross that it must be considered more than just coincidence that Bodie was free for one evening after a week under your care and the very next morning, Doyle requests a reassignment with a new partner.”

Ross nodded as she pointed at the folder, “We’ve found out a bit more about the drug that Bodie was given during his captivity. It is highly hallucinogenic and certainly promotes a somewhat robot like behaviour as well as increasing paranoia.”

“Someone used that drug to influence Bodie’s mind so that Bodie would attack Doyle and then shoot him. I think it’s time we put the pressure on the men that we rounded up in Huddersfield. Bodie worked with them for almost six months; they should know something. I believe I will visit Doyle tomorrow. I know he’s gone through a lot lately, but I think it’s time that he starts telling me the truth.”

Murphy had arrived mid-morning to get Doyle’s statement. Since Murphy had been standing next to Doyle at the time of the shooting, he knew what Doyle should be saying, and, for the most part, that’s exactly what he got. All of Doyle’s statements were matter of fact and precise in their detail which indicated Doyle’s copper background.

By the time Doyle was finished, he was looking exhausted so Murphy decided to wrap up the interview quickly. As Murphy headed for the door, he turned to Doyle and said, “Glad you’re feeling better; be sure to take your meds. By the way, Bodie’s not doing too well. He’s virtually said nothing since . . . It happened. Ross has got him under suicide observation.”

Doyle stared at Murphy for a long few seconds, seemingly totally disinterested in his information. Finally, however, Doyle whispered, “Don’t worry, Bodie won’t do that.”  
Murphy was vaguely disturbed by the implications of this statement, but since Bodie had shot Doyle maybe this was to be expected. Leaving Doyle, he immediately went to CI5 and had the statement typed up for Cowley’s perusal.

Cowley re-read the statement twice. Statements were supposed to be impersonal and precise, but Doyle’s words came across as impersonal and disinterested. Maybe it was time that he visited Doyle for a different kind of interrogation.

Spending the next several hours meeting the various demands of his job, George Cowley was able to get to Doyle’s room in the late afternoon. Doyle seemed more rested, but the exhaustion and despair in his eyes had not disappeared. “Come in, sir. I’ve just taken my meds, so I might fade out on you, if you get my meaning?”

“I won’t stay very long, 4.5, but I have read your statement, and I think it’s about time you tell me the whole truth. It needn’t go into your official statement, but I need to hear it, nevertheless.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir. Murphy was there; he can verify that I told you exactly what happened yesterday.”

“Yes, yes, I know that, but I’m talking about two days before. Dr. Ross told me that she permitted 3.7 to leave the clinic and return to his flat two days ago, and then the very next morning, you called in sick and the following day, you asked for a new partner. Now it doesn’t even take double-think to question that sequence of events. What happened two nights ago?”

Doyle closed his eyes; his voice filled with exhaustion. “I don’t see a need to tell you about that, sir. It has nothing to do with the shooting.”

“I’ll be the judge of what is relevant. Shall I tell you what I think happened? It was obvious from Bodie’s words to you that he had some personal issue with you. Did he show up at your flat two nights ago? Did you have an argument?”

For a moment, Cowley thought that Doyle would not answer his question, but finally Doyle cleared his throat and said in a quiet voice, “Yeah, he was angry and called me several insulting names. We got into a fight and he . . . slapped me a couple of times. That’s how I got these bruises. If he was filled full of drugs, he probably didn’t know what he was saying or doing, but I didn’t want to put that in a report.”

“I can understand that, do you realize that if you had reported that behaviour, you might have saved yourself that wound in your shoulder?”

“Hindsight is great, isn’t it, sir? I never thought he would do such a thing. After he left, I thought it over and decided to ask for a new partner. If we didn’t see each other so often, maybe we could forget what happened.”

“And can you forget what happened?”

“I’m not sure, sir. I have to admit the shooting hasn’t helped me to forget.”

“All right, Doyle. I’ll leave you now. You get some rest.” As Cowley neared the door, he turned to the man he often thought of as his successor and wondered if Doyle could overcome this trauma and return to CI5. He had overcome so much in his short life, but could he forgive or even forget what the most important person in his life had done to him, even if Bodie had done it under the influence of drug?

“All right, Doyle. I would like you to meet with Dr. Ross. This kind of situation isn’t easy to deal with and I’ll expect you to talk to her in the next few days.”

“Sir, I don’t really need to . . .” The look on Cowley’s face told him that it was a total waste of time to argue so he merely nodded, “Yessir.”

“Good lad, I’ll speak with you again after you have seen Dr. Ross, and maybe then you will feel more like telling me the whole truth. Good-bye, Doyle.”

Doyle stared at the now closed door. How was he going to keep the details of his near rape from Cowley?

When Cowley returned to CI5, there were several messages from Dr. Ross, requesting his presence in the medical area set aside for Bodie’s recovery. Cowley quickly went to see Kate Ross, who immediately took him to a viewing area. The area had been set aside for one patient, but it had been made as comfortable as possible. As possible as a fishbowl could be made, that is.

“I’ve been trying to communicate with Bodie, sir. He has said nothing and as you can see he just keeps making that one gesture, moving his two hands all the time. I mentioned the name Doyle to him and he seemed to react. I thought he grunted something, but I couldn’t understand it. I’m afraid we might lose him, sir, if we can’t break through this condition soon.”

“You say that he seemed to react to the name Doyle?”

“Yes sir; that’s about the only time he seemed to be aware of what I was saying.”

“What if we got Doyle down here to talk to him? Do you think that might help?”

“I don’t know, sir. Will Doyle come?”

Cowley gave Ross a perplexed look then queried, “Why wouldn’t he?”

“I took the liberty of looking at Murphy’s statement from Doyle, as well as what you told me. Doyle doesn’t seem to be terribly interested in Bodie’s problems. In fact, he hasn’t even asked about Bodie since the shooting.”

“You’re right about that, but he is still protecting Bodie in some way. Although he told me more today about what happened the night that Bodie visited him, he’s still hiding something more serious from me.”

“You mean that Doyle admitted that Bodie went to visit him on the evening I allowed Bodie to leave the clinic?”

“That’s right, and if I’m right, Doyle could be the key to freeing Bodie’s mind so that we can get him to talk to us. I’ve told Doyle to report to you for some counseling. Maybe you can persuade him to visit Bodie?”

“I’ll certainly try, but I think we have to face reality, Mr. Cowley. Bodie’s mind has been under a great deal of pressure lately; he might have chosen to seek a respite that it will be impossible to remove him from.”

“That’s exactly why Doyle is the key to Bodie’s return to health. The question is: Has Doyle been so badly damaged himself that he won’t care to help the man who inflicted that pain upon him?”

Part 5

After two days in hospital, Doyle had been glad to be released, but he wasn’t thrilled with having to meet with Dr. Ross. Doyle was feeling better, but he was sincerely glad that he didn’t have to report for work, although he had agreed to an appointment that afternoon with Kate Ross. It was very difficult to refuse to see the Iron Doctor when it had been Cowley, who had ordered it in the first place.

Doyle walked into Ross’ office, expecting to see the doctor, sitting behind her desk, waiting for him. Instead the psychiatrist motioned Doyle to follow her down the hall to a small interrogation room where she motioned Doyle to sit down.

“I would like to talk about the shooting, if that’s all right with you?”

“I’ve given my report and I’m sure you’ve read it. What more do you want?”

“I think we need to talk about you and Bodie.”

Doyle immediately stood up and began to pace. “Why do we have to do that? Ask, Bodie, he’s the one who did the shooting.”

Ross felt relief because that was the opening she needed, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s been in a near catatonic state since the shooting. He has said nothing and the only movement he makes is this one gesture. Would you like to see him?”

Doyle was about to shout out, “No!”, but he hesitated. “Where is he?”

“He’s on the other side of this room; you can see him through a one-way window.”

Doyle definitely did not want to see Bodie, but he realized if he didn’t do this now, that the images that kept playing through his mind might never stop. It was best to see Bodie now and then he wouldn’t have to do so ever again. Wiping the sweat from his face, Doyle whispered, “All right.”

Ross led Doyle into the room next door. It was made as a visual observation room to observe the patient in the comfortable room just beyond the window. As Doyle stood there staring through the window, he saw a badly dressed Bodie slumped in a stuffed chair. He didn’t seem to be asleep but neither was he awake. His body seemed to be almost paralyzed except for the constant hand gestures that he made.

Kate Ross excused herself and left Doyle to stare at the man that he had loved. Doyle couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man who he barely recognized. Bodie seemed to have lost weight in the six months since he had seen him. Why was he making those hand gestures?

Doyle was about to turn and leave the room when he suddenly whirled around and stared more intently at the gestures that Bodie was making. Perhaps . . . perhaps, he knew what Bodie was trying to say. Doyle immediately went to the door between the observation room and the patient room and tried to open it, but it was locked. Doyle demanded Ross’ appearance which she did almost as if she was waiting for this summons. She immediately noted Doyle’s excitement. “What is it, 4.5?”

“I think I know what Bodie’s trying to say. Let me in there.”

“All right, but I’ll have to have someone go with you; that’s regulations.”

At one time Doyle would have treated that statement with scorn, but Bodie’s attacks on him had made Doyle realize that that was practical suggestion. Doyle entered the room quietly and carefully. He sat down in a large chair not too far from Bodie’s slumped figure. For several minutes, Doyle continued to stare at Bodie’s hand gestures then he said quietly, “Bodie, it’s me, Ray.”

The tension in Doyle’s body was readily apparent. Doyle had somehow found the courage to sit near the man who had turned his world upside down. Doyle could not force himself to say anymore so he just waited.

After several minutes, Bodie seemed to respond slightly by looking up at Doyle and studying his face. Finally, he whispered, “Ray?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“You’re . . . you’re dead. I killed you.”

“Nah, you didn’t. I’m here.”

Suddenly, Bodie seemed to be gasping for breath. He began to repeatedly make the hand gestures over and over, screaming out over and over, “The voice, the voice,” then he seemed to try and launch himself against Doyle, shouting even louder, “YOU’RE NOT DOYLE! YOU’RE NOT DOYLE! HE BETRAYED ME. I KILLED HIM.”

Doyle immediately backed away, fear and despair mixed together in his green eyes. The medical personnel who had accompanied Doyle into the room immediately restrained Bodie while Ross rushed in with a sedative to calm the upset man.

Doyle immediately vacated the room, trying to get away from the man he had ceased to understand, only to find Cowley standing behind the viewing window. “Are you all right, Doyle?” 

“Yes sir.” Doyle looked badly shaken, but he drew a deep breath to compose himself and said to Cowley, “Sir, I believe I know what Bodie’s trying to tell us. It’s the hand gestures. He’s shadow boxing. He mentioned hearing a voice. Sir, perhaps, he’s telling us that he was held captive by JOHN COOGAN.”

For a moment, Cowley stood there stunned, remembering a time when a mere circling gesture tipped Bodie off about who had shot Doyle. Could the thoughts between these two men, even as badly damaged as they were, still be working? Was Doyle right? John Coogan certainly was capable of setting up a plan to bring about the downfall of CI5, using the two men he held most accountable for his troubles. Cowley was not about to hesitate. Doyle’s observations and knowledge of Bodie prompted him to begin an all-out assault to bring John Coogan to justice.

“Thank you, Doyle,” but Cowley had been so lost in his thoughts that he had not even noticed that Doyle had already left the room.

BDBDBDBDBDBDB

While Bodie and Doyle recovered, Cowley and CI5 began their concentrated efforts to find information which could be used against John Coogan. The place to begin was with the men being held in solitary confinement after being discovered with large amounts of guns and ammunitions in Huddersfield. They must have been in contact with Coogan and they would, along with Bodie’s testimony, be the key to bringing Coogan down.

The process was a slow one because there would be no second chance. Geraldine Mather and others were just waiting for another fiasco like the previous effort to arrest Coogan for drugs. While the ex-mercs had virtually refused to talk when first arrested, the mere mention of the name John Coogan seemed to loosen the tongues of many of the hard-core criminals. The problem was to convince these men that George Cowley and CI5 were of far greater threat than the repercussions of giving information against John Coogan; therefore, it was vital that they have Bodie’s testimony about Coogan’s involvement in his captivity, but so far Bodie was doing little communicating.  
It had taken Ray Doyle to even get a small amount of information from the almost-oblivious Bodie. What had that effort done to Doyle? The man was on medical leave and his sheet white face told of the impact that the ordeal had had on him. Cowley needed Doyle, but was Doyle able to put aside his very natural feelings towards Bodie to be able to help the man who had injured him both mentally and physically?

Bodie, on the other hand, had not totally retreated back into a silent state. Dr. Ross’ patient work with the agent seemed to be bearing fruit, but every time either she or Cowley attempted to broach the events of the night of Bodie’s release from the clinic, Bodie steadily maintained that he had only been out for a little fun.  
The breach between the two men seemed complete, but both Cowley and Ross agreed that Doyle was the key to Bodie’s recovery, but what was the key to healing the breach that was threatening his best team and possibly CI5 itself?

Over the coming weeks, the investigation of John Coogan intensified; Doyle’s body healed, and Bodie’s body flushed the damaging drugs from its system. The two men had not spoken to each other since the break-through confrontation over the hand gestures. With each passing day, Cowley became more and more worried that neither agent would be able to set aside the deep pain and emotional trauma that clouded their relationship. Normally when either of the two agents were injured or damaged in any way, the other partner was a constant thorn in the side of the medical personnel dealing with the injured agent, but this time both men were injured – Bodie mentally challenged and Doyle certainly physically challenged but also suffering emotionally as well. 

Cowley insisted that Doyle see Dr. Ross, but she was having little results with the moody, reticent man. Bodie’s memory was returning, but the all-important data was missing. Cowley could only hope that some catalyst would appear which would bring a successful resolution to this dire dilemma.

Part 6

The catalyst came because of a lack of information. Murphy had tried to make himself a liaison between his two friends. He paid frequent visits to both Bodie and Doyle. Murphy was, of course, readily aware of the estrangement of the two men and that Bodie had been subjected to drugs which had affected his behaviour but being a witness to Bodie shooting Doyle had deeply affected Murphy as well. He thought that he had come to know the two men pretty well and had broken through some of the barriers that both men had thrown up to protect themselves, but now Bodie’s barriers were even more solidly in place and Doyle seemed to be almost unreachable.

The investigation of John Coogan had been taking up a great deal of Murphy’s time for the past several weeks. Murphy worked overtime on the case because he had an ulterior motive: if it was John Coogan behind this mess, Murphy wanted the man punished for attacking CI5 as well as hurting his two friends. Murphy remembered vividly the devastation that Coogan had caused earlier when Paul Coogan had died in the custody of CI5.

Murphy knew that Doyle was on the mend; he had already begun to work part time in Records and was doing well in physical rehabilitation and would soon be ready to partner once again on the streets with Murphy, but deep in his heart, Murphy knew that Bodie was Doyle’s true partner, and Murphy made a pledge to himself that he would do everything he could to get the Bisto Kids back together again. Murphy was sure that Doyle, knowing about the drugs, could forgive Bodie for the shooting.

Bodie was a much harder nut to crack. His physical condition was improving because Cowley insisted that Bodie keep himself fit by using CI5 equipment. Once most of Bodie’s memory had returned, he had rapidly become bored being interrogated hour after hour. He admitted there were things he did not understand, but he was anxious to get back out on the street. He knew that his partnership with Doyle had been badly damaged. He did not expect Doyle to readily forgive or forget that his former partner had shot him, but if he could return to active duty, he would be making some progress.

Therefore, as Bodie wandered through the workout area of CI5, it was not surprising that Murphy called him over to help him demonstrate some basic defence holds that his class of new recruits were observing.

Murphy smiled when 3.7 readily agreed to help out in the demonstration. Turning to his students, a gleam appeared in Murphy’s eyes as he announced to the recruits and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, you see before you the typical individual who wanders the streets of our fair city - - overweight, and in poor condition. You will certainly meet up with villains of this condition and not just thugs who are physically fit. Do you treat these less-than-perfect specimens with any less caution? The answer, of course, is no. So this gentleman and I will demonstrate how to stop a thug like this in his tracks.” Murphy knew that Bodie was glaring at him behind his back, but Murphy continued to stick the needle in. Turning to Bodie, he bowed and said, “Now, pathetic civilian attack me as if you had just swiped a handbag from some little old lady.”

Although Murphy winked at Bodie, hoping that 3.7 would play along, the ex-merc decided to get his revenge against his boastful friend. Lunging towards Murphy, the two men grappled and quickly were in each other’s clutches. The two were practically even in hitting the mat, but Murphy had just mistimed one throw and had received a breath-taking elbow from Bodie. Murphy could see the gleam in Bodie’s eyes and decided he better put the man down now. Without thought, he threw Bodie over his hip so that he hit the mat hard. Bodie, who had not yet returned to his peak, lay there for a moment, allowing Murphy to say so that only Bodie could hear, “Come on, I bet you’ve thrown Doyle down a lot harder than that.”

Bodie stared for a moment then went sheet white as his seemed to be shaken to his foundation. Suddenly, he sprang up and attacked Murphy faster than Murphy thought possible. Bodie grabbed Murphy’s shoulders and began to shake him like a rag doll, shouting all the time, “You take that back! What do you mean?”

Some of the recruits finally grabbed Bodie off of Murphy, who immediately restored the whole situation to calm by dismissing the recruits and putting his arm around Bodie’s shoulders and leading him to the locker room. The two men sat in the empty office next door. Murphy stared at the slumped Bodie and knew that he had, with his stupid words, reached the core of one of Bodie’s secrets. Not sure what to do, Murphy said in a quiet voice to the withdrawn man, “I’m sorry, Bodie. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business if you and Doyle . . . .”

Bodie raised his head, his face red as he repeated over and over, “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

Bodie looked like he was going to collapse so Murphy picked up the phone and asked for Kate Ross, but Bodie quickly stopped him by hanging up the phone. “No, Murph.” Bodie sat back down in the chair across the room; his head hanging down on his chest. “Give me a minute.”

Murphy sat quietly and waited, but finally Bodie began to speak, “Cowley and Ross have been asking me over and over what I did that night I got out of the clinic a couple of weeks ago. I couldn’t understand why they kept harping on that night after all I was just out for a bit of fun, but you saying that to me on the mat gave me an image that . . . I don’t understand. I was hurting . . . Ray. Suddenly, Bodie’s eyes opened wide and then closed in torturous pain, dropping into a fetal position on the floor, Bodie repeating over and over, “What have I done?”

Murphy immediately called for Dr. Ross and within moments, the doctor was there, administering a sedative and getting Bodie loaded on a gurney to be taken to the medical clinic. Cowley was there soon after Ross, but stood there waiting until Bodie had been taken away; then Cowley turned to Murphy and said, “Now tell me what happened.”

Briefly, Murphy explained about the demonstration and about his unthinking words. A look of consternation appeared on Cowley’s face. “Do you never think, man? I know that you were not made aware of all that has been going on between Bodie and Doyle, but couldn’t you put two and two together and realize that any mention of Doyle might have devastating consequences to Bodie?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Bodie has been so close-mouthed that I thought a bit of teasing might bring him out of his . . .”

“Yes, well I don’t know if you’ve brought him out of it or sent him over the edge. You’re on two weeks suspension as of now. Let’s just hope this isn’t the final straw.”  
Ross got Bodie into bed and sat down for a moment. She badly needed to find out what had occurred, but she felt that this might be the cusp of Bodie’s recovery. She hadn’t given him enough of a dose to put him out, and perhaps Bodie might be persuaded to open up about the memories he had been suppressing.  
Walking over to Bodie, in a quiet voice, Ross asked, “Bodie, what upset you?”

Bodie was breathing rapidly for a moment as if he were fighting a battle with himself then he opened his horrified eyes and said, “I raped Doyle.”

Ross tried to show no reaction, but she was taken aback and not sure what to say. Suddenly, she found that she didn’t have to say anything. The whole event with Doyle came pouring out of Bodie’s mouth. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself. His voice cracked and was filled with emotion, but he continued until exhaustion finally stopped him. Grabbing his stomach as if overwhelmed by pain, Bodie turned to the side and vomited on the floor as if trying to purge himself of the evil that dwelt there.  
Ross immediately administered another small dose of sedative and called for someone to clean up the room as well as Bodie, who was now lying on the bed motionless. Ross went to her office and sat for a few moments before she put a call into Cowley and asked to speak with him immediately. 

Cowley was ready for her when she arrived, expecting to hear the worst - - that Bodie had lapsed back into catatonia. When Ross explained what had happened, Cowley was grateful that Bodie was not catatonic, but he was disturbed to hear that what he had suspected had happened. Could the Bodie/Doyle partnership recover from rape?

BDBDBDBDBDBD

Ray Doyle had had his nose buried in the pre-historic CI5 records that had been lingering in the primordial ooze for generations. He was just about ready to go back out on the street after several weeks of rehabilitation and mauling by Towser and Macklin, who had only recently passed him fit for return to the streets with a new partner. As he stretched his back after hours of careful perusal of the tomes of CI5 efforts of the past, Doyle felt his back sing a song of creaking that it hadn’t done before. That song was like an epiphany that he was soon to be 38 years old. He knew the time was near when he would no longer be fit to face the streets of London or anywhere else, but hopefully, not for a while.

Unfortunately those fainting morbid thoughts brought another image to mind - - Bodie. Doyle had always imagined that somehow he and Bodie would leave the streets together when it was their time, but now Doyle knew that that would not happen. His relationship with Bodie was in tatters and their partnership no longer existed. Besides, why would Bodie, who was two years younger than Doyle, want to leave the streets just because the “old man” did?

Feeling the discomfort in his back, Doyle decided to take a break and go to the gym. Macklin had set up a regimen of workouts for Doyle to get back some of his lost weight, but 4.5 had been neglecting that regimen. Maybe an hour or so on the equipment would help build up the stamina that he had lost during his time trying to recover from the shooting. Doyle knew deep down that he had not really made the effort to recover as he had done when he had been shot by Mayli. Of course, that time he had been younger and he had had . . . Bodie to encourage him. Now he had . . . no one. The depth of emptiness that overwhelmed him at that moment seemed to be like a physical blow; he had to stop feeling sorry for himself and get on with the job.

Walking into the locker room, Doyle noticed Murphy cleaning out his locker, packing everything that was mouldering in there into the duffel that he had available. Doyle smiled at the handsome agent, “What, you finally found some gullible bird to do your laundry?”

Murphy turned around and stared at Doyle for a moment; then he replied with a note of hesitation in his voice, “Nah, I’ve been suspended for two weeks so I thought I’d take this stuff home and wash it”

“Suspended - - why?”

“I opened me big mouth. It’s what I deserve. I’m really sorry, Ray.”

A feeling of apprehension swept through Doyle’s thin body as he asked, “What’s your suspension got to do with me?”

Murphy closed his eyes, wishing he could sink into the floor and disappear but he gathered his fortitude and replied, “I was conducting a defence class for the new recruits and since Bodie was in the gym I asked him to help me.” Murphy tried to gauge Doyle’s reaction but seeing no anger in those remarkable green eyes, he explained what had occurred in the gym and later in the locker room office. Doyle’s eyes were now as dark as he had ever seen them. It was obvious that Doyle was barely controlling his anger, but the only thing that he asked was, “Where’s Bodie now?”

“Ross came and got him after I alerted her to the stupid thing I had done. Cowley showed up soon after, heard about my big mouth and that’s why I’m suspended. Ray, I’m really sorry; I didn’t mean anything by what I said. You’ve been Bodie’s wrestling partner thousands of time, and I just wanted to tease him a bit.”

Doyle wiped his face. Looking as tired as he ever had looked, Doyle nodded, “I guess you had no way of knowing what happened between Bodie and me. I guess I’ll see you in two weeks.” With those words, Doyle turned and left. He immediately went looking for Cowley. Finding him in the observation room looking through the one-way glass at Bodie and Ross who sat talking - - at least Ross was talking and Bodie was there.

“Why isn’t he sedated?”

Cowley didn’t even look at Doyle. “Doctor Ross and I agree that Bodie has had enough sedation; he must begin to face what has occurred. That’s the only way he’s going to recover from this.”

“Do you want him to recover?”

Now Doyle had Cowley’s complete attention. The older man turned to stare with cold, hard blue eyes at the younger man, “Now why would you ask that, Doyle?”  
Doyle’s stare was just as cold and hard. The many Operation Susies that Bodie and Doyle had been sent on by Cowley were all too much proof that Cowley would always put CI5 and the country before the interests of his agents.

“You got Bodie to finally admit to what happened with me, but you still need him to tell about Coogan. If Bodie doesn’t remember Coogan being there and holding him captive, then what good is he?”

Cowley winced as he heard Doyle’s hard words, but he returned Doyle’s stare with little emotion, “You’re right; I want John Coogan so he won’t be able to get away with what he did to Bodie, but you’re wrong if you think that’s all I care about Bodie for. Both of you are important to me. I should have checked out that story about the merc/terrorists much more thoroughly. I let Bodie walk in there without adequate information, and Coogan used that to get at CI5. I don’t want Coogan to get away with it again, so blame me if you want for using Bodie or whoever I need to get the . . . the bastard that did this to you and Bodie.”

Doyle took a step back. Cowley never cursed so hearing his words opened Doyle’s eyes to how badly Cowley had been affected by what had happened recently. “Murphy didn’t mean to hurt Bodie; it’s my fault for keeping the information about the assault from getting around.”

“it’s not the kind of thing that is anybody’s business, but I have to ask you, “Since Bodie’s assault has led to your estrangement with him, why didn’t you report him?”

“I don’t know.”

Cowley’s blue eyes pierced Doyle to his very soul. “Of course, you do, man. Your regard for that stubborn, demanding ex-merc is legendary. I’m asking you to not throw it away, Ray. Go see him, and somehow get him to talk to you. We need him to remember The Voice. Both Dr. Ross and I are convinced that you are the only one who can tear down the walls blocking his memory.”

For a moment, it didn’t register with Doyle that Cowley had called him Ray, but when it did, the angry agent took a further step back, laughing slightly.  
A puzzled look crossed Cowley’s face as he asked, “What have I said that’s funny?”

“Sir, you are either the master manipulator of all time, or you’re beginning to slip. You called me Ray, something you have never done. All right, Mr. Cowley, I’ll do your dirty work for you one last time. I’ll go see Bodie. Be sure you’re standing behind the window as a witness because I don’t want to have to do this ever again.”

Cowley nodded, his eyes following Doyle thin figure out the door. Although Doyle would not have believed it, Cowley had not relished asking Doyle to face the man who had tried to rape him. Cowley knew how much Bodie meant to Doyle and the assault and subsequent shooting must be eating away at him, even If drugs had been the cause of Bodie’s actions.

The sedative that Ross had given Bodie was really nothing more than a mild tranquilizer so he had been able to tell the doctor what had happened that night of “a bit of fun”. He was now sitting alone in the viewing room that Ross had set up weeks before. Bodie was slouched back in the stuffed chair, staring into space when Doyle cautiously entered the room. For a moment, Bodie failed to focus upon his former partner, but finally the deep blue eyes strayed to the figure standing by the door. In a hoarse voice, Bodie whispered, “Ray?”

Doyle nodded as his curls quivered in agreement, “Yeah, you mind if I sit down?”

His voice filled with sarcasm, Bodie asked, “Aren’t you afraid to sit down in the same room with me?”

“Should I be?”

Bodie slumped down even farther, totally defeated, “No,” was all he said, however.

“Bodie, I’m here as 4.5. You’ve told your information many times, but you’ve had trouble remembering some things. I want to go over your story one more time. Let’s put aside what’s happened between . . . us. Can you close your eyes and go back to what happened on the terrorist job and just tell me everything you remember?”

Normally, Bodie would have refused, but this was Doyle and Bodie could refuse him nothing at the moment. “Cowley told me about the mercs. We set up a plan for me to infiltrate.” Gradually Bodie began to expand the story, relating how the undercover op had gone well until near the end when Bodie felt that he could just about call in the cavalry to round up the gang. One day, however, the gang leader announced that one of their biggest contractors was going to come in person to discuss a major job that he wanted them to do. Bodie decided he would wait until the contractor showed up so that he could be bagged with the others.

That’s when everything went wrong. Bodie could hear the mystery man talking to Frankie, the gang leader, about the new op when suddenly Bodie was grabbed by some other members of the gang and given a good working over. The contractor could be heard in the haze that Bodie was suffering, telling Frankie that his “newest” recruit was a CI5 agent. For the next few days Bodie thought he was going to be killed, but he only received frequent beatings as well as numerous injections. From that time on he could hear the contractor’s voice which sounded familiar, but Bodie couldn’t place it. It kept telling him that he hated Doyle and CI5 and that he was going to destroy both of them.

Bodie lost track of time, but finally one day, Frankie came in and said, “Our friend wants me to keep you around ‘cause he’s got a big job for you to do, but I figure I ought to get something out of this as well. Bodie, in his drugged condition, could hear Frankie as he unzipped his trousers when suddenly the man with the voice appeared from the shadows. Bodie couldn’t see him very well due to the darkness, but he had the perception of a well-built, muscular man who was used to giving orders and not being disobeyed.

The contractor promptly walked up to Frankie and knocked him to the ground. Frankie was a huge man of some 20 stone so the man that Bodie thought of as the voice must have been physically fit and known what he was doing.

Frankie continued to lie there; the other terrorists afraid to intervene. The voice turned to Bodie and said, “Maybe I should have let Frankie do you, but I got other tasks for you to do first, Bodie. You’re going to be the death of CI5 and Ray Doyle.”

A day or so later, Frankie and the terrorists disappeared and hours later Bodie was rescued; put on a helicopter and taken to London.

All the time that Bodie was talking, Doyle was watching Bodie, who was once again making the shadow boxing motions. He repeated the gestures during the entire time he related the events of his capture. As Bodie got to the end of his explanation, Doyle stopped him, “Bodie, what are you doing?”

“Whatta mean? You told me to relate what happened.”

“Yes, but open your eyes. What are you doing with your hands?”

Bodie opened his eyes and looked at his hands still up in the air, waving at some unseen enemy. For a moment he seemed extremely puzzled then a light came on in his handsome face. “I’m . . . I’m shadow boxing? Now why would I do that?”

“Put it all together, Bodie. See the man you call the voice together with what you’ve been doing.”

For a moment, Bodie said nothing, then he whispered, “John Coogan; it was John Coogan. Why didn’t I realize before?”

“You were loaded with drugs and had been beaten; besides you never got to see him very well.”

“Ray, tell Cowley. Go get him. I know it was Coogan.”

Doyle stood up and headed towards the door, “Don’t worry; it’s already being done. We’ll get Coogan this time; now you rest and get better.”

Bodie was so devastated by the knowledge that it was Coogan who had done this to him that he failed to notice Doyle leaving the room. Cowley was waiting on the other side of the door, “Well, done, 4.5. With Bodie’s testimony and all the other evidence that we’ve gathered, we’ll put John Coogan where he belongs.”

Doyle stared at the Controller’s excitement. He doubted that Cowley had any idea what that half hour had cost him. It had also had an impact on Bodie, but now Bodie would be able to receive justice from the scum who had hurt him so dearly. As Doyle quickly left the room where Cowley was standing in exaltation, but it crossed Doyle’s mind on whether he would ever receive justice for the pain that he had endured, since the man who had caused the pain had been his best friend? Doyle well understood legal justice, but what kind of justice was he looking for? Did he really want Bodie punished for his actions?

Part 7

The weeks and months passed. The case against John Coogan was built slowly and carefully on a solid foundation and with Bodie’s testimony the Crown Prosecution was just about ready to issue charges against John Coogan. Bodie’s identification of the man he called the voice was considered so essential that Bodie had been given a reservation in a safe house. He had been declared physically as well as mentally ready to return to active duty, and he would do so just as soon as Coogan’s trial was finished.

Needless to say, 3.7 was anxious to return to the streets, but the lack of expectation that Doyle would join him there had dimmed Bodie’s desire to be active once again. Each and every day that he and Doyle weren’t partners was an indictment against Bodie for his behaviour. Bodie had already approached Cowley about restoring the team to their former status, but Cowley had mentioned that Doyle was now assigned to work with some of the new recruits and then with Anson. Cowley quickly discovered that Doyle was a natural teacher who had helped the younger agents to progress much faster than usual. 

Four weeks ago, Doyle had been partnered with Anson. Anson’s chronic smoking was agony for Doyle who had got used to his other partners not smoking. Doyle had spent the last four weeks asking himself why he got two of the things that he needed the least: Anson and congestion. Finally, Doyle had had enough. After one month of supreme sacrifice of working with Anson, Doyle was no longer ready to sacrifice for Queen and Country.

Doyle walked into Betty’s office and asked to speak with Cowley. Betty stared at him for several minutes; then she buzzed Cowley and announced that Doyle would like to see him. With the word, “Enter,” Doyle strutted into the office and stood before his boss. As usual, Cowley continued working for a few seconds, but he could not resist looking up at Doyle and instead of seeing the handsome man’s face, he saw a World War II relic, a gas mask.

Trying very hard not to smile, Cowley asked, “Yes, 4.5 you wanted to see me about something?”

Although his voice was muffled, Doyle came through clear enough, “Yes sir, I want to complain about the fog that has been overwhelming London for the last four weeks. I’m really tired of wearing this mask. I don’t know how you all stood it during the war.”

Looking outside and seeing a beautiful day, Cowley decided to play along by asking Doyle, “What are you talking about, 4.5, the weather’s been unusually fine for the last several weeks?”

“All I’ve been able to see is fog and smoke recently.”

“Indeed and why would that be?”

“Far be it from me to criticize a fellow agent, but I believe Anson has something to do with it.”

Now Cowley did smile, “I see, 4.5, and what would you recommend be done about this?”

Doyle stopped and made a gesture as if he were actually trying to think about what was to be done, and then he asked, “Is the Tower of London still open to prisoners?”

“All right, Doyle, enough. I get your meaning. I will change your partner assignment so that you won’t have to appear as The Monster from Outer Space anymore.”

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it. I want you to know that I’m quite willing to take any partner but the smoking furnace. I can handle anybody.”

“I’m glad you said that, Doyle. For the next several weeks, Murphy will need a partner for the Cranmer case. It’s going to be long and boring, but you two do so well on those cases; then, well I would like you take on partnership with another individual who has been out of action for quite a while . . . if that’s all right with you?”

Without thinking, Doyle immediately agreed since he was glad that he had got rid of Anson. “Of course, sir. I pride myself on the fact that I can handle just about any partner . . . except, well . . . Anson. My hooter and I just can’t handle the smoking chimney.”

“Excellent. I will let you know when this individual will be ready. Anything else, Doyle?”

“No, sir.” Doyle turned and began to walk to the door when he realized that he was still wearing the gas mask. Quickly removing it, Doyle practically felt like whistling as he left to find Murphy.

The next three weeks were like a rollercoaster for Doyle and Murphy, they had days when they were so active that they could barely crawl to their flats each evening, and then other days were slow and tedious with more wear and tear being put on their arses than their feet. Everyone knew that charges were soon to be filed against John Coogan, but Doyle and Murphy seemed to have been left out of the information flow for some reason.

Finally, John Coogan and his solicitor had been served papers which indicated his arrest for a wide variety of crimes which included the kidnapping of CI5 agent. Coogan was taken into custody without comment. 

Much quicker than anyone expected, Coogan’s trial was scheduled. Coogan and his barrister both acted as if there was no reason to dawdle since it was obvious there wasn’t enough evidence to convict the man so with supreme arrogance, Coogan’s barrister told the government to get this farce over right away. Cowley and the Crown quickly accommodated them.

By the time that Bodie was ready to testify, the case was almost air tight. With Bodie’s testimony at the trial, the evidence was airtight. The jury spent little time debating, returning with a guilty verdict on all charges within less than two days.

George Cowley and the agents of CI5 breathed a sigh of relief. The man who had suborned perjury, and done numerous other things to avoid justice was now going to go to jail. The satisfaction on Bodie’s face as he and Cowley heard the verdict told everything. Now they could return to their normal lives which were very seldom ever normal.  
Now the only thing left was the sentencing of John Coogan that he so richly deserved. Unfortunately, Murphy and Doyle were not priviledged to be at the sentencing since they were still doing the Cranmer op. Both men were slouched in the Capri trying to figure out what to eat and what Cranmer could possibly be doing in there. It was a very long time yet until their relief team arrived.

Suddenly, the radio burst into noise with their call sign. “4.5, this is 2.4, a man named Champagne Charlie has just called in and insists on talking to you immediately. He says that he’s got extremely important information. He seemed to be hardly able to breathe, 4.5, like he had been running. I’ve got his number.”

“Great give it to me.” Hearing the number, Doyle immediately left the car, telling Murphy that Charlie wouldn’t call if it hadn’t been important. “Charlie won’t thank for calling over the CI5 lines so I’ll go into that box there and be back in a moment.” Within less than a minute, Doyle was back, looking perturbed and excited. “Charlie said that some of Coogan’s men are going to attack the courtroom while he’s being sentenced.” Doyle immediately called it in to CI5. Since Cowley was at court, Doyle turned it over to the Agent of the Day. Doyle knew that he and Murphy should continue their observation, but he gave Murphy a look and they were immediately on their way.  
Within a few minutes, they were rolling out of the still practically moving car towards the court buildings. Security had been tight so they had their warrant cards ready when all of a sudden a face they recognized came running out of the doors of the court building. It was Coogan’s number one deputy, Frank Williams. Assuming that he must be guilty of something, they immediately stopped him and when he protested, they wrestled him to the ground. Murphy immediately told Doyle to go ahead because he could handle this slime.

The entire building was in chaos with alarms ringing, but it wasn’t the madhouse that Doyle was expecting. In fact, it was obvious that several prisoners were being led to some type of holding cell. The fact that court security and various CI5 agents who had been assigned as security that day were escorting the prisoners relieved Doyle of some of his anxiety. Taking the stairs three at a time, Doyle finally reached the Coogan court room, where he flashed his warrant card again. Gaining entrance he found Cowley and Bodie near an individual. Emergency personnel were hiding the identity of the person, but Doyle had a feeling he knew who it was.

Walking up to Cowley, Doyle queried, “Sir?”

Cowley turned to face the panting agent, “Need more training time, do you, 4.5?”

Doyle grimaced for a moment then said, “No, sir, just sighing in relief.”

Cowley smiled, “Well, the fact that Bodie and I are both standing here is mostly because of you. Several of Coogan’s men tried to break up the sentencing, but thanks to your warning, it was stopped. We’ve arrested several men. Good job, 4.5.”

At that moment, Bodie turned to say something to Doyle, but Murphy entered the room after having got someone else to “take care” of Coogan’s deputy. Cowley stared at him for a moment, and then said to Murphy and Doyle, “I thought you two were on surveillance in another part of the city, what are you doing here?” The two agents looked like little boys with their hands caught in the cookie holder. Murphy eyed Doyle, who immediately cleared his throat and said, “Well, we thought we heard an all agent call out so we came on over . . . sir.”

“I see . . . both of you be in my office at 9.00 am sharp tomorrow.” With those words Cowley left to speak the justice presiding. Both Murphy and Doyle moved closer to Bodie to see if they could see Coogan, but the man was being placed on a gurney and partially covered with a blanket.

Doyle allowed Murphy to ask the all-important question, “What happened?”

Bodie’s face held an exhausted look, but there was a different look in his eyes, “Coogan was standing there in the booth, waiting to hear the sentence when several of his men stood up and headed for the judge, Cowley, and the prosecutor. Coogan leaped down from where he was sitting and headed for me. He had his fists up in the air as if he wanted to punch me out, but seeing that gesture reminded me of shadow boxing so I punched him in the gut and leveled him before he had time to do much damage. The other agents in the court room took care of the rest of them and you see what’s left over.”

Murphy smiled while Doyle looked carefully at Bodie to see how the incident had affected Bodie. It was obvious that the agent had not been greatly bothered by hitting back at the man who had caused him so much pain and loss.

Bodie turned to Doyle and even though there were still a large milling crowd in the room, looked at Doyle as if he were the only one on the earth at the moment, “Thanks, Ray. You saved us all.” With those words, Bodie followed the gurney that took Coogan to hospital.

Murphy and Doyle looked around and saw that Cowley had already left. Coming back to reality, Murphy looked at his watch. “Well, I think we’ve got a little more than an hour on our obbo, do you think Mr. Doyle that the Queen wants us to return to our duty?”

“Ta! I think she wants us to go to a pub and celebrate getting certain scum off the street, but I think that maybe a certain Cow might like us to fulfill our assignment.” Both men sighed as they retreated and returned to their car which was unfortunately now being studied by a traffic warden who promptly handed them a ticket. When Murphy pointed out that they were there on CI5 business, it was pointed out to them, in no uncertain terms, that Mr. Cowley, having spotted the car parked illegally promptly told the warden to be sure the driver and passenger received a ticket.

Doyle and Murphy looked faintly green but took the ticket, got in the car and headed out to the Cranmer op once again. Although neither man said anything to the other, they promptly started thinking of ways that illness could render them incapacitated by 9.00 am tomorrow.

While sitting in the car, trying to convince themselves that they weren’t facing several weeks of suspension on the morrow, Murphy asked, “How’s Patrick? You haven’t said much about him lately?”

Patrick had been a student at the art school that Doyle had attended two decades before. The two men had briefly been lovers, but their friendship had lasted for two decades. Most of the time they kept in contact by letter since Patrick Jamison lived in the northern part of the country. For the past couple of weeks he had been in London selling some of his paintings to various art dealers and was scheduled to return home in a day or so.

“He’s so excited because he’s managed to sell all of his paintings. We were planning to celebrate at my local tonight, but with all that’s happened today, I don’t know. I think I’m getting old Murph.”

Murphy laughed, “You’ve got more energy than anyone I know. I’m five years younger than you, and I’m more tired than you are. You know you want to spend some time with Patrick before he wanders home again. You need a break. These last several months have been rough on us all so go with Patrick and enjoy yourselves.”

Doyle smiled, knowing what Murphy was thinking. “You’re right; why don’t you come with us. You know how much you enjoyed meeting Patrick the last time?”  
“Yeah, but it might be your last night with Patrick, you don’t want me there.”

“Nonsense, I wasn’t blind the last time we got together. You and Patrick hit it off immediately. You can’t fool me, Agent Murphy; you want to see him again.”  
Murphy had the grace to blush as he said, “Well, he did promise to show me some of his paintings.”

Doyle laughed, “Is that anything like showing you some of his etchings?”

“Ray, really, do you think I’d horn in on your action?”

“Murphy, I told you at the beginning that that was all over between Patrick and me. We’re just friends so have at it.”

“Thanks, mate. I’ll join you for a few minutes, I guess. Besides, if Cowley is going to have our skins tomorrow morning, we might as well enjoy ourselves tonight.”

The relief team finally arrived so that both Murphy and Doyle could go home and get ready for the evening. When they arrived at the pub, Patrick was already there, waiting for them. When he saw Murphy, his large, friendly smile spoke volumes about how glad he was to see the handsome Irishman.  
For the next hour, the three men reminisced about various events in their lives. Patrick was one of Doyle’s few friends who knew that he was with CI5 so the two agents didn’t have to be as careful in their talk as with the normal civilians. After an hour or so, Patrick and Murphy decided to finish the game of darts that they hadn’t finished at their previous meeting.

Doyle remained at the table, watching his two friends enjoy themselves, when suddenly he noticed a familiar figure walk into the pub. Bodie looked around and spotted Doyle sitting at the table and promptly walked over to his ex-partner. The look on his face matched the coldness of his deep, blue eyes, “Did you two decide to go on a junket to somewhere?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about? Me and Murph decided to celebrate the capture of Coogan; what’s wrong with that?”

“Did either of you remember to bring your R/T along?”

“Oh. I guess I forgot, but I well . . .”

At that moment, Murphy and Patrick wandered over to where Bodie and Doyle were confronting each other. He had been able to hear the bit of the conversation where an R/T was mentioned. Once again, his face got very red. “Ooooops, I guess I forgot mine as well. I was so rushed to get here that well . . .”

Bodie’s coldness got even worse as his next words practically had icicles on them, “Well, Cowley’s been trying to find you two for the last hour or so. Stupidly, I was still hanging around headquarters so I was assigned to find you two and give you a message.”

Doyle and Murphy snuck a peek at each other, their stomachs’ sinking even farther since they knew they were already in trouble for leaving their assigned post earlier that day. “What’s the message - - report to the Tower of London at 9.00 am tomorrow?”

Bodie didn’t laugh or even smile, “Apparently the Minister is going to be at your meeting tomorrow so Cowley wanted to be sure that you two dressed yourselves with decorum and here I am quoting, ‘Not like the ragamuffins that you usually resemble,’ “

Both men immediately said, in chorus, “The Minister?”

“Yes, now that I’ve given you the message, I will take my leave of you.”

Murphy, being the ever vigilant and observant agent that he was, noticed that Bodie was giving Patrick an eyeful so he immediately remembered his manners and said, “Oh, Bodie, I’d like you to meet, Patrick Jamison, who’s an old friend of Doyle’s from art school days.”

Jamison smiled at the man that he had been watching carefully. The two men greeted each other with nods. Patrick immediately said, “Bodie, nice to meet you. Ray has mentioned you several times.”

Since Doyle had never mentioned Patrick to Bodie, Bodie could not say the same thing, and it was perfectly obvious to everyone involved that Bodie was in no mood for a conversation or light frivolity. He seemed to be forcing himself when he said, “Nice to meet you. I have to go now.”

Murphy, however, was not about to let the tall, handsome man get away. The relationship between his two friends was already strained enough without this getting out of hand. “Why don’t you stay and have a drink with us. After all, it’s a day to celebrate what’s happened.”

About to say “No,” Bodie changed his mind and agreed to have a drink. While Murphy went to get the drinks, the other three men sat at the table. Conversation was sparse, but Patrick made the best of it by talking about how he knew Doyle. Doyle’s green eyes had turned a deep emerald green so anyone that knew Doyle well would know how upset he was. Doyle said little so Patrick carried the conversation until Murphy returned to help Jamison keep the talk flowing.

After a few more minutes, both Bodie and Murphy left the other two men alone outside the pub. Patrick followed Doyle back to his flat. Patrick had something very important to tell Doyle and he wanted to have some privacy. As soon as they entered the flat, Jamison grabbed Doyle in a big bear hug and shouted, “I SOLD THE LAST PAINTING!!!! AND!!!! I’M SCHEDULED TO HAVE MY OWN SHOWING IN A COUPLE OF MONTHS!!! What do you think of that, old friend?”

Doyle hugged Jamison even harder and smiled, “Wonderful, absolutely wonderful. Nobody deserves it more. Let’s celebrate.”

For the next several hours, the two men celebrated, not enough to be drunk, but they weren’t really sober either. As a result Doyle insisted that Patrick stay the night, offering him the settee. Patrick looked at his old friend and former bed partner and asked with a pathetic look that would rival the sad eyes of a basset hound, “Couldn’t I share your bed like we used to?”

For a moment Doyle was tempted, but after all that had happened in the last year, Doyle knew that he wouldn’t be comfortable with anyone in his bed. For the past year he had been virtually celibate, only going out with a few birds during the six months Bodie was gone and no one at all after Bodie’s return.  
“That settee is perfectly good. Besides, I remember what an octopus you are in bed. I need my rest if I’m going to meet Cowley and the Minister tomorrow so I’ll find you some bedclothes so you can get your beauty rest.”

Jamison didn’t really look too crestfallen as he muttered, “Oh, all right, I’ll get ready.”

When Doyle shut off the light in the flat, he was extremely glad that this day was over, but he was concerned about what was going to happen tomorrow.  
Doyle would have been even more concerned if he had known that William Bodie, was sitting in his car not ten yards from Doyle’s front door. Bodie had planned to talk to Doyle about what had happened between them, but he had recognized Jamison as he had left to go with Doyle into the flat and had decided to wait. When it became obvious that Jamison was not coming out, Bodie’s face took on a look of despair as he lowered his forehead to the steering wheel.

BDBDBDBDBDBDBD

The next morning, Murphy and Doyle showed up at Cowley’s office promptly at 9.00 am. For once Cowley noticed both men immediately instead of letting them stand waiting his attention. “4.5, 6.2 I have been notified by the Minister that he will be here in a few minutes to congratulate the two of you for your help in stopping Coogan from escaping yesterday. He will be here for only a few minutes. Just enough time to shake your hands, say a few words, and then hold a brief press conference to expand upon the situation with Coogan.

Neither man said anything because they knew the boom was getting ready to be lowered. “That is why I have had you come in early. I want to know why you left your post yesterday. Did you trust your fellow agents so little that you felt that the dynamic duo had to be there to back them up? In addition, why was I unable to reach the two of you last evening so that I could warn you about the Minister’s presence today? What happened to your R/T?”

“Well, sir,” Murphy started to say, but Cowley waved his hand. “Never mind, Bodie explained it to me, and I choose not to delve any deeper into the situation. It would be bad form to put both of you on suspension for the rest of your lives in such flagrant contravention of stated CI5 policies; therefore, I will forget your behaviour this once, but you are just lucky that the Minister is coming to say a few good words about you. I, however, am not happy with you. I will give you one more week with this Cranmer matter and then I will find something else for the two of you to become involved in.”

“Yes sir,” the two men said in unison.

At that moment, Cowley’s phone rang. After a moment, Cowley hung up the receiver and indicated that the Minister had just entered the building. Cowley looked carefully at the two men, deciding that their sartorial splendour was adequate, and then he went to the door to welcome their boss.

Both meetings went well, but since the identity of both agents had to be guarded, the Minister met with Doyle and Murphy in private, congratulating them on their efforts on behalf of the conviction of John Coogan.

Several minutes later, the two agents were wandering down the corridors of CI5 after listening to the Minister saying at the press conference that several years would be added to Coogan’s sentence for his attempted escape.

Their ties had long been discarded and somehow Doyle’s suit coat had mutated into the slouched/wrinkled/worn creature that is owner often personified. Murphy’s suit had somehow managed to survive the morning, but it was quite evident that Murphy was ready to shed the jacket in the name of comfort.

“I wonder what Cowley meant when he said that Bodie had explained it to him about why we didn’t have our R/T’s?”

Doyle was busy studying the floor as he walked down the corridor, not really anxious to discuss Bodie, but he too was privately wondering what Bodie had said. “Don’t know, mate, but I suggest that we get back on the Cranmer op before Cowley changes his mind and gives us both lifetime suspensions, without pay.”

Within a half hour, the two men were once again sitting near Cranmer’s domicile, pondering the mysteries of the universe. At least, that’s what Murphy was doing, but Doyle was thinking even deeper thoughts. He was in usual slouched position with his right leg bent and his foot on the car seat. He looked relaxed and disinterested, but, in truth, he was a mass of nerves. He had a lot on his mind, and he needed to talk to someone so Murphy became the recipient of Doyle’s thoughts.

“Murph, Cowley’s giving us only one more week with Cranmer, what do you think that means? Do you think that he knows something we don’t know?”

Murphy turned and looked at Doyle with his deep brown eyes. “Wouldn’t be surprised; I’ve always known that Cowley knows more than you, and I suspect that he might know a bit more than me, but I also suspect that this op was a bust from the first.”

“It’s beginning to look that way. Well, I just wanted you to know that well . . . I sort of made a promise to Cowley, in return for a favour he did for me, that I would take on a new recruit and train him for a month. That is, I mean, I’d do that as soon as Cranmer was in our clutches, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen so I probably won’t see you much after this week.”

“A new recruit, huh? So the Great Teacher, Raymond Doyle is going to show the path to some poor unsuspecting recruit? We must really be getting desperate if you have to give this guy more training just to get him up to snuff.”

Rubbing his perfect nose, Doyle’s voice took on a haughty tone as he said, “Yes, well, Father certainly knows who is the superior trainer in CI5. I suspect this is some hardcore dolt who has to tie something around his leg so that he knows right from left, but that’s not really what I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh, I thought we already had this discussion about the correct French letters to use so you won’t get yourself in trouble?”

“Stuff it, you moron, I’m trying to tell you that I’m going to quit the streets after I get done with training the new recruit.”

Murphy sat there in silence, studying his partner for several minutes. He was totally speechless. Finally, he could only come up with one word, “Why?”  
Doyle’s face had taken on a look of complete exhaustion and a bit of irritation, “Don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed. I’ve slowed down. I don’t react like I used to, and I’ve lost my focus.”

Murphy closed his eyes slowly, thinking to himself, No what you’ve done is lose Bodie - - that’s your trouble. “That’s bullcrackers, that is.”

Doyle looked at his friend as if he had raffled off his marbles, and said with some sarcasm, “You’ve got a silver tongue, there son, but I know you’ve noticed how I’m not the same. How could I be after being beaten up numerous times, shot in the heart, shot by a legion of individuals, and shot by Bodie as well as . . . well being attacked. How much can a bloke take and still be good at 38 years old?”

“Cow patties! You are still the best agent in CI5. You can run rings around me.”

“Well that’s not saying too much, me tall Irish rose, and can you tell me where you’re getting these exalted exclamations. Are you looking them up in dictionaries?”

“Don’t try to sidetrack me, I want to know the truth, why are you really thinking of getting off the streets?”

Suddenly, Doyle turned serious, his eyes turning that shade of green which expressed his emotions better than anything, “I guess it’s because I’m tired.”

Murphy’s heart was in his mouth, but he decided to face the truth head on, “I believe that you’re tired, nobody could do what you’ve done and not be tired, but that’s not why you’re quitting the streets, is it? The truth is it’s because of what’s happened with Bodie - - that’s why you want to give up.”

Fury burned in the outraged green eyes, but Murphy could see the flame gradually burn itself out as Doyle’s head slouched down on his chest. For several minutes, Doyle stayed that way but finally he whispered, “You think you’re smart, don’t you? You’re right though. I thought I knew Bodie. In fact, I was sure I knew him. Even when we had . . . well you know. I guess I was dumb like so many people; I thought I could change him and that one day he’d drop that barrier of his, but I was wrong. I know he was under the influence of drugs, but what happened really shook me. I guess that’s why I’ve kept him away from me.”

“You’ve been punishing him. That’s understandable. He really hurt you and it’s human nature to try and hide from someone who has done hurt you so badly, but I think you’re wrong about Bodie. I think it’s killing him what he did to you. I saw him looking at you while we were in the pub the other night. He was jealous as all get out over Patrick and the look he had when he looked at you told everything. He’s crazy about you. Talk to him. Get counseling with somebody so that you and Bodie can work out what’s wrong.” 

“Thanks, Murph for the advice. I’m sure Bodie doesn’t care anymore, not after my hostility and avoidance of him for the last few weeks. I’ll think about it though.”

BDBDBDBDBDBD

The week moved on slowly, but finally Cranmer did show up at his apartment. Murphy and Cowley promptly sat him down for a major session of interrogation, while Doyle was told to go to Conference Room 4 to meet the agent he was going to work with for the next month.

Doyle felt totally tired, knowing that this might be his last month with CI5 and that he might have shouldered himself with a total klutz who would never make a CI5 agent, but it was still better than sitting in a car hour upon hour waiting for a guy like Cranmer to show up.

After grabbing a cup of tea from the restroom, Doyle headed to room 4, opened the door with alacrity and stepped in. Standing at the table, looking even more nervous was WAP Bodie, who stared at Doyle for a moment; then said with a grin, “I’m ready for my first lesson.”

Doyle turned around to immediately leave the room, when he heard Bodie say, “You promised you’d work with anyone!”

Doyle swung around, feeling like he’d like to hurl the tea at that smiling face but didn’t. “You bastard! You and Cowley set this up, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” was Bodie said. “You’ve been avoiding me, and that’s understandable under the circumstances, but I’m rusty after more than seven months off the streets. I need the best and that’s you. Can’t you put up with me for one month?”

Doyle had continued to stand as far away from Bodie as possible.. It was obvious that he was trying to decide whether to go along with the double dealing that Cowley and Bodie had caught him in, but Raymond Doyle was not about to go back on his word so he nodded and said, “I can put up with anybody for a month. I proved it with Anson, and I’ll prove it with you.” Doyle knew that if things worked out, he would not have to see or deal with Bodie anymore after that month. After his birthday, he would approach Cowley with his resignation. He might have to work another month to fulfill his obligations, but by early next year he would done with CI5 for good.

“Great, what do you know about the Fessington case?”

Doyle shrugged, “Not much, just what’s been in the papers - - high-ranking official brought in for questioning. Wife interrogated about his love affairs - - usual scandal for the masses.”

“Well, sit down. Cowley’s already given me the folder and told me a few more pertinent facts. It seems to be a lot murkier than that. We’re to check into everybody and I do mean everybody’s alibis, stories, and background.”

“Why can’t the coppers do that? That was pretty typical for us when I graced the halls of the MET?”

“Because Cowley suspects that there’s a great big cover up by somebody in the MET over this whole situation. Besides, with your copper’s background, me, a lowly military type can see how an ex-copper conducts a true investigation.” Bodie smiled shyly after throwing down this gauntlet, and waited for the legendary Doyle temper to blast away, but nothing happened.

Instead, Doyle said with a smirk on his face, “I’m glad that you finally admitted that you need help with your investigative skills. I’ve suspected it for a long time, but show me the folder and tell me what Cowley said, and then, I, of course, will once again work miracles and show off the copper skills that made me a legend in me own time.”

Bodie smiled, happy to see the small amount of banter that the two former friends were able to come up with after so many months of rancour and disharmony. “All right, here’s the folder, can you listen to me golden words and read at the same time or is that beyond your copper ability to do two things at once?”

“Of course, I can do both. I’m not like you mercs who think that breathing and talking is pushing your capabilities. Now, start from the beginning.”

For the next several hours, the two agents sat and talked about the case. Since it was late by the time they had finished, it was decided to wait until the next day to begin their research and begin interviewing key individuals involved in the possible Fessington scandal.

Unfortunately, the banter did not survive the reality of life on the streets. Working in small spaces such as the research facilities, the computer area, and their car seemed to naturally increase Doyle’s nervousness, and Bodie’s unease. Doyle kept telling himself that nothing was going to happen while the two men were working together on an important case, but he could not conquer the feelings that he had when his body was near to the heady aroma of Bodie’s natural essence as well as the aftershave that he used which would lure a Siren to her doom.

Bodie, on the other hand, knew that he was making Doyle hyper although the older man was doing his best not to allow it to show. He had hoped by working with Doyle once again that they could, somehow, achieve a compromise between them which would eventually lead to Doyle consenting to work full time with Bodie, but even after a few days, Bodie realized that it didn’t seem to be working. Everything seemed forced. There were no visits to each other’s flats, no visits to the pub, and very little banter. They were focused on the job, and Bodie quickly came to the realization about how much he had lost. After the first few months of their partnership, Bodie had taken Doyle’s trust for granted; now, it was totally evident that Doyle might trust Bodie on the streets, but nowhere else.

As the weeks progressed, Bodie realized that he was spending more time with Murphy off the job because he couldn’t get Doyle to meet him after hours. Sighing, Bodie began to think about throwing in his cards and asking Cowley to change the assignment so Doyle wouldn’t have to complete the month. He knew that Doyle was spending the evening at his local with Patrick, who happened to be in town on another brief endeavour to sell some paintings.

Bodie’s jealousy rose to new heights as he thought about the closeness of the two men. Patrick had known Doyle for more than double the years that Bodie had known the green-eyed satyr. Bodie thought longingly of the body that had enticed him and delighted him for some six months, and then Bodie had thrown it all away: first, on the undercover op, and then getting captured and being programmed to bring about CI5’s downfall.

How many times had Bodie cursed himself for his behaviour once he had remembered what he had done. It was no wonder that Doyle didn’t trust him. Why should he? Bodie told himself that he was crazy to expect Doyle to forgive and forget just because they were working together again for one month.

As Bodie lay on his settee, seriously contemplating what he was going to do after this month of working with Doyle, his R/T and phone went off at the same time. Answering the phone, and responding to the R/T at once, Bodie’s entire body froze as he was being told the same thing on both instruments. 2.4 alerted him to a possibility that Doyle had been kidnapped, and the phone message was from Murphy. He had heard from Patrick who had been with Doyle. Murphy had given Patrick his phone number so the man was contacting Murphy to let him know that Doyle was missing from the pub. Jamison said that Doyle had gone to the loo and hadn’t returned. He didn’t know what to do so he had immediately called Murphy.

Bodie’s heart sank as he heard the news, but he remained calmed, “I’ll be right there, Murph,” as he acknowledged the R/T message.

Bodie made super time to the pub. It was not Doyle’s local so it had taken a minute or so longer. When Bodie got there, he was practically out of the car before it stopped, flashing his warrant card at the officer who was keeping traffic from in front of the pub’s door. Bodie rushed to the entrance way, looking like he was ready to tear the place apart when Murphy came out and grabbed Bodie, stopping him in his tracks.

“Take it easy; I’ve talked briefly with Patrick, but he’s waiting for both of us.” Bodie’s face which was already pale turned deathly white as his fingers clenched as if he ready to do great bodily harm to Patrick and anybody else who got in his way, but he nodded and motioned to Murphy to lead the way.

They found Patrick sitting at one of the small tables in the pub. He stood as soon as he saw Bodie and then almost cringed as the tall agent came hurling towards him. Murphy and Bodie immediately sat down across from the distraught man who was keeping a careful eye on Bodie, but it was Murphy who said, “Now tell us everything that happened, Patrick.”

Patrick wiped his face. He had been sweating even though the pub wasn’t that warm. “I picked up Doyle so we could celebrate that sale of another painting. We decided to come here so we would be close to my hotel and that way if we needed to walk after . . . well, you know celebrating, we could.”

Both agents stared at him. It was obvious what Jamison was suggesting, but Bodie jumped in with, “How was Doyle going to get home?”

“Well, he could have stayed with me . . . or taken a taxi.” Jamison stopped right there when he saw the thundercloud sweep across Bodie’s face. Bodie’s right hand made a fist as his body reacted to the mere suggestion that Doyle might have been planning to spend the night with Jamison.

Figuring that he had already opened his big mouth enough to get him pulverized by the CI5 agent, Jamison rushed on, “Well, as we were driving here, Ray kept looking behind us every few minutes. I asked him what was the matter, and he shook his head and mumbled something about us being followed. We got to the pub and walked in and he didn’t say anything else about the car. We were enjoying ourselves with our drinks when this big, ugly guy sort of sauntered in. Ray immediately sat up straight and suddenly announced that he had to go to the loo. I thought that was kind of strange since we had just started drinking, but he excused himself and headed towards the back. I didn’t think anything about it until some ten minutes later when I realized that he still hadn’t returned. I got up and rushed to the loo, only Ray wasn’t in there. The place seemed a bit messed up, but nothing out of the ordinary. I ran out into the corridor, looked around and then immediately called Murph.”

Murphy could feel the tension in Bodie’s body, but the ex-merc was still holding himself together. Murphy, better than anyone, knew how much Doyle meant to Bodie and Murphy wondered how long it would be before Bodie lost it all.

“What else can you tell us? What do you remember about the big, ugly guy? What happened to him?”

“Well, he left after looking around the pub. Didn’t stay long. He was probably your size, Murph. Dark hair, and oh . . . he had a tattoo on his face, on his left cheek - - it was some sort of knife. Here’s the picture I drew of him.”

Murphy took the sketch and showed it to Bodie. The agents gave each other a knowing look as both men recognized the drawing as Danny Rogers, a known “associate” of John Coogan. Bodie immediately stood up and said that he was going to check out the loo before the forensics team arrived. Murphy decided to interrogate the barkeep and the few patrons who were sitting in the pub.

Within minutes, Bodie returned just as forensics arrived. Bodie went over and immediately talked to the team about what to look for. Murphy motioned Bodie over to the bar area where he had been talking to the pub owner. “Bodie, this is Mr. Jessup, he owns the pub.” Bodie’s glacial blue eyes stared at the short fat man, giving him no comfort at all. “Mr. Jessup says that he didn’t notice anything, just our man going back to the loo.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Jessup’s voice was quivering and it was hard to decide whether the apprehension or tension was more dominant in in his voice.

Bodie’s stare became even colder as he asked quietly, “Do you always keep your backdoor open?””

“What are you talking about? I always keep it locked; can’t trust anyone now days.”

“I went back to the loo and your backdoor was wide open. If you keep it locked then why was it open? Who unlocked it?”

“How should I know?” Jessup started sweating even more.

“Look we can stay here all night, asking you and your ‘guests’ questions; nobody will get in or out, how will that be for business. We can even let it be known that you were very cooperative with us so what’s it going to be?”

It took a few more minutes to get the information out of him, but Bodie had what he wanted.

Murphy contacted Cowley by R/T to tell him about their suspicion that at least one of John Coogan’s minions was involved in Doyle’s kidnapping. They had a drawing which could be put out on the street. 6.2 requested all the information that was available on Danny Rogers. Signing off, Murphy went over to Patrick Jamison and said, “It wasn’t your fault Patrick; your drawing has been a big help. We’ll get Doyle back.”

“I sure hope so; I feel really bad ‘cause I was the one that wanted to come here.”

Now that other agents as well as forensics were at the pub, Bodie was anxious to go. He walked over to Murphy and with clenched teeth said, “If you’re going with me, it’s now, Murphy.”

The two men hurriedly left the pub with Bodie driving. Murphy looked at Bodie’s side profile and asked, “What’d you find in the loo?”

“Doyle must have known what was goin’ down ‘cause I found some soap stuff on the wall of one of the stalls with the letters Co and the number 3.” Murphy could tell that Bodie wasn’t done so he remained silent. Finally, Bodie continued, “I also found . . . some blood.” Bodie drove silently for a minute or so and then he hit the steering wheel hard with his right hand. Murphy jumped out of his seat. “Damn! You know what it means, don’t you?”

Murphy’s face was the image of despair as he whispered, “Of course, I do. Ray knew that he was being followed, and when he saw Rogers enter the pub, he knew there might be trouble so he went to the bog to get Rogers and anybody else away from Patrick and the others.”

“Damn that Doyle. Always put others ahead of himself. Get yourself killed like that.”

Murphy turned to look at his friend, “You wouldn’t want him any other way, would you?”

Bodie said nothing for a moment then he shook his head in the negative and finally said, “But, he’s going to hear it from me when we find him.”

Murphy gave a small smile, “Yeah, when we find him.”

All sorts of images went through each man’s minds but they were professionals who had faced these sorts of scenarios many times so they forced themselves to focus on the job at hand. “Where we going?”

“Rogers has some sort of flat not too far from here. I’m going there to see what we can find out about our Mr. Rogers.” Fortunately, they didn’t have to go to the Rogers’ flat because a message came through that a car with a license registered to one Danny Rogers was spotted going north, leaving the London area. Within minutes a further message came through about a property owned by Danny Rogers that was several miles north of London.

Calling in the information to Cowley and asking for further backup, Bodie and Doyle headed toward the indicated address. Within minutes, they were at the address.  
Waiting for several backup teams, Murphy prepared for a reconnaissance of the area, while Bodie moved in to see if he could discover the car that had been identified. Checking the outbuildings, Bodie found the car and motioned to Murphy that he was going to look around the main house.

Going around the house, he found a window that wasn’t latched and swiftly entered the broken down house. Hearing voices, Bodie moved towards the sound. Fury filled him when he heard several slaps in a row. Creeping into the main room, Bodie saw Doyle tied to a chair. His face had several bruises and his lip was bleeding. One of the other thugs known as Bill was standing near Doyle using his fists to punish the man. The other thug was standing there haughtily saying, “This ought to get us some points with Big John. You think just ‘cause he’s in gaol that he don’t have power? Well, we’ll just see Mr. CI5 man, what you think when we put a bullet in you, and tell that to Big John. Of course, you won’t know what Big John says, but I guarantee you, he’ll be happy with us.”

“You know before we kill you though, I think I’ll have a little fun with a pretty boy like you. ‘Course, you’re not as pretty since Bill and Danny have been messin’ with that face, but it’s not your face that I want. Danny and Bill, you two go watch the doors so we don’t get no surprises. When I’m done I’ll let both of you have a chance.”  
The room cleared out. It was obvious what the thug named Turk was planning, but Bodie forced himself to wait. Turk untied Doyle and made him stand up so he could remove his tight jeans. “Man, how do you get these on, pretty boy?”

Horror filled Bodie as his mind flashbacked to what he had done to Doyle. Waiting, no more, Bodie stepped into the light and said, “Stop right there, Turk, put your hands up."

Turk whirled around and grabbed Doyle and put his gun to Doyle’s head. “You put down your gun right now, or I’ll shoot him.”

Bodie stared at the scumbag, his blue eyes drilling a hole into Turk’s body. “You got one chance to live, Turk. Let Doyle go and throw down your gun.”  
“No way. You put down your gun, NOW!”

The entire time that this exchange was going on, Doyle watched Bodie through his eyes that were almost swollen shut. Bodie continued to stare at Turk but said nothing.  
“I’m going to give you exactly 3 to get rid of that gun; then I’m going to shoot this guy, and I’m so fast I’ll get you too if you move a muscle.”

“All right.” Bodie carefully put down his gun, and seemed to be raising his arms, but instead, he flicked his wrist slightly. Doyle immediately reacted by falling forward. Bodie removed the gun from his belt in his back and shot Turk with a bullet in the forehead. With no thought for Turk, Bodie immediately ran to check on Doyle, while Murphy and Anson came in from the two doors leading out of the large room, pushing Bill and Turk before them.

Murphy saw Bodie holding Doyle in his arms so he asked, “Is he all right?”

“Pretty beat up, but he’ll recover.”

Within the next half hour, the ambulance had arrived to take Doyle to hospital; CI5 had taken the two surviving thugs into custody, and the forensics team was giving the place a good going over. In addition, Murphy had reported in the results to Cowley, who asked about Doyle’s condition. Cowley listened to the report and then told Murphy and Bodie to report to headquarters to prepare their reports. Murphy hesitated for a moment, then replied, “Sir, Bodie has gone to the hospital with Doyle.”

“Very well, 6.2. I’ll expect to see you here.”

What seemed like hours later, Murphy wandered into the A & E and saw Doyle sitting up on a gurney. “I thought they’d be admitting you for the night.”

“I hurt, but I told Cowley that I’m not staying here, but I have to have someone stay with me if I’m to get my release from here. Where’s Bodie?”

“You’re not going to like this, Ray. Cowley told me when he got back from seeing you that Bodie was waiting for him. He threw his warrant card and his gun on Cowley’s desk and walked out. He’s resigned, Ray. Bodie’s left CI5.”

Doyle immediately got off the gurney although he was obviously in pain, “Get me out of here right now.”

“But Ray, . . . . What are you going to do?”

“The doctor said that I had to have somebody stay with me tonight or I couldn’t go home, well, I’m going to go find my ‘babysitter’, and knock him in the head if I have to get him to ‘sit’ with me.”

Murphy grinned, “Finally, it’s about time. You two are the most stubborn men that I’ve ever seen.” Murphy grabbed Doyle’s arm gently though and said, “But, Ray, be sure you know what you want, ‘cause while I know Bodie’s hurt you; he’s been hurt too, and if you change your mind, it’ll kill him. You’re his life, and losing you now would destroy him.”

Doyle studied Murphy for a moment, then he nodded, “Take me to Bodie’s, will you?”

Murphy could tell that Doyle was hurting as they headed towards Bodie’s former CI5 flat. Doyle knew that he had to get there soon, before that gorgeous idiot had packed bag and baggage and headed out to who knew where.

Murphy looked anxiously at Doyle and then said softly, “You know I’d stay with you, don’t you? That is . . . well, if I didn’t already have plans?”

Doyle smiled briefly, “Of course, I know that, but to tell the truth, Murph; you’re not the one I want to hold my hand, and I suspect Patrick definitely wants to hold your hand.”

Murphy’s mouth dropped open as he said, “How’d you know that my plans included Patrick?”

“Oh, come on now, I am a trained observer and I could certainly see that you and my friend are seeing eye to eye about certain things.”

Murphy blushed as he stammered out, “Well . . . well, I, I ,I guess I have been kind of obvious about my admiration for your friend, you’re not mad are you?”

Although was definitely not feeling up to par since the painkiller that he had been given was starting to wear off, he made an effort to sound enthusiastic, “Of course not, Murph. Patrick is a good guy, and I think that you and he will get along great, but he lives up north so this will be kind of a long distance relationship, won’t it?”

“Well, actually, he mentioned that his agent has been trying to talk him into moving to London so that they can promote his paintings on a more regular basis. I think it’s a really great idea, but . . . well . . . we’re going to take this slow ‘cause I don’t want to mess this up. We’ve got time so who knows?”

Doyle did not respond so Murphy pulled over to check his friend out. Doyle was obviously in pain and Murphy was about ready to turn around and take him back to hospital, when Doyle opened his eyes and said, “I’m okay; just get me to Bodie’s before I make a fool of myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, now go.”

Fortunately, Bodie’s flat was just a few blocks away. Murphy helped the agent to Bodie’s front door and rang the buzzer. When Bodie answered, Murphy responded with, “I’ve got news about Doyle.” He was immediately buzzed in. Murphy helped Doyle to the ground floor flat and then said, “Okay, he’s all yours; don’t blow it.”

Bodie opened the door as soon as he heard the brief knock. Doyle did not have to pretend to be the forlorn, abandoned patient that he resembled. He was definitely feeling tough at the moment so he could barely get out the words, “I only escaped hospital ‘cause I told them you’d stay with me. Please?”

Doyle’s despairing green eyes were filled with pain. Although Bodie had hoped to get away so he wouldn’t have to see Doyle again, his heart could not turn away this forlorn cherub who had caught his heart so many years before. Stepping forward, Bodie carefully put his arm around Doyle and brought him into the flat and gently put him on the settee. “You idiot; why’d you leave hospital? Where’s Murphy; don’t tell me he left you to take care of yourself?”

Doyle leaned back on the settee, holding his ribs. He gasped out, “He’s got a date.”

Fury streamed through every bone in Bodie’s body, “A date? Whatta ya mean? You’re more important than any date? Who is this bimbo? He’s your partner and should be with you.”

Doyle looked sadly at his friend and said in a pitiful tone, “You’re my partner, or, at least, you were.”

“Yeah, well, I can explain that.” Bodie looked at Doyle and knew that the green-eyed satyr was at the end of his rope. He couldn’t go on much longer. “I’ll explain after you’ve rested. Come on let’s get you into bed.”

Within minutes, Bodie had given Doyle his painkiller, made sure he visited the loo, and undressed him so that he would feel comfortable in bed. Bodie had shuddered when he had seen the bruises and contusions on Doyle’s beautiful body. He wished he could kill Turk all over again, but right now it was Doyle who was important. Gently lowering Doyle onto the clean smelling sheet, Bodie stared briefly at the naked body which had seen so much pain and trauma in its 38 years. After this night, Bodie knew that he would never see that beloved body ever again.

Bodie covered up Doyle with a duvet and moved to turn off the light. In a sleepy voice, Doyle said, “Bodie?”

“Yeah, Angelfish?” The endearment came so naturally that Bodie didn’t even notice that he had said it.

“I’m cold.”

“I’ll get you another cover. They belong to CI5 so they’re around here somewhere.”

“Hmmmm! Didn’t mean that. I’m cold on the inside. I need a special kind of heat. Remember how you used to keep me warm . . . when we were havin’ sex?”

The thought flashed through Bodie’s mind, Is that all it was to Doyle? Bodie nodded, “Yeah, I’d hold you against my chest and put my arms around you. You always said that I was like a furnace ‘cause the African sun had burnt itself deep into my soul. You were wrong, you know?”

Doyle’s half-closed eyes tried to focus on Bodie as he whispered, “Wrong?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t Africa that was burned into me.”

“What was it then?”

“You.”

Doyle reached out with his right arm, appealing to Bodie, “Please, Bodie, make me warm again.”

Bodie hesitated for less than a second; then stripped off his clothes and gently got into the bed, taking Doyle into his arms. Bodie’s lips were just behind Doyle’s right ear. As Doyle began to slide into sleep, he heard Bodie whisper, “I thought I lost you today. Couldn’t live with that.”

“Is that why you quit?”

“We’ll talk later, now you get some sleep. Your nurse says so.”

Within seconds, Doyle was asleep, but Bodie lay awake for hours propped up against the pillows in the large bed. Doyle’s body which was finally beginning to warm, lay heavy against him. Bodie’s thoughts ran through his mind in a helter-skelter pattern, but in truth Bodie was terrified that when Doyle woke up, he would remember what Bodie had done to him, and his life would be over because Doyle would walk away from it.

BDBDBDBDBDBDBD

As dawn peeked through the curtains in Bodie’s flat, nature called to the ex-merc so he carefully moved the still sleeping Doyle to the other side of the bed and rushed to the loo. He decided to clean up a bit so that he could leave his former life as soon as Doyle woke up and realized that he was in the arms of the man who had treated him so abominably. Until then, however, Bodie wanted that body alive with the Doyle essence to be as near as possible, one last time.

Doyle slept for another half hour, but finally he began to stir. Even though he was sure that Doyle would wake in a panic when he realized that he was vulnerable by being in Bodie’s bed and naked, Bodie refused to move away from the man. If their split was going to be permanent, Bodie wanted every precious moment with Doyle that he could get.

After a few more minutes, Doyle’s eyelids opened sleepily. He stared around at the room, recognizing it and then recognizing the body that held him so warmly. Instead of reacting with horror, however, Doyle turned around and tried to focus on the face of the man who held him. With a shy smile, Doyle asked, “Did I fall asleep?”

Bodie’s heart was beating rapidly as he responded, “Yeah, for about eight hours; must mean that you really needed it. That painkiller did its job.”

Doyle smiled lecherously as he responded, “Maybe it wasn’t the painkiller but some priapismic monster which has a way about him?”

Bodie began to move away from Doyle, but the smaller man held him tight, “You’re not going anywhere; not until we talk.”

“Ray, let me explain. You were exhausted; you didn’t know what you were saying; you asked me to help you get warm like . . . well, like I had done in the past. That’s all that happened, I swear.”

“I wasn’t talking about us being in bed together. I want to know why you quit CI5? Do you want to get away from me so bad that you’d quit rather than keep your job and work with me?”

Anger and coldness entered Bodie’s eyes as they stared at Doyle’s whose luscious lips were only inches from his own. “No, you moron, I didn’t quit because I wanted to get away from you, but when I saw you fall to the ground after I shot Turk, I realized that I can’t do the job anymore. I’m almost 36 and I’ve been involved in violence since I was 14, and I just can’t do it anymore, especially not when you might get hurt because of me. I don’t blame you for avoiding me for the last several months, Ray, but I know now that the only way I can possibly keep my sanity is to cut myself completely off from you. Just seeing you and being around you is agony. That way, maybe one day you can forgive and forget what I did to you. Besides, you’ve got Jamison now.”

Doyle studied the depths of Bodie’s pools of blue and sighed, “You are a bigger moron than I am sometimes, but you’re right, I have been avoiding you. In my head, I knew that it wasn’t your fault that you assaulted me or that you shot me. I wanted to punish you, but . . . not for the assault or the shooting.”

Bodie frowned, his puzzlement obvious. “For what then?”

“That you didn’t care enough about me to love me.”

“What?”

“We spent six months together, having sex. You made sure every time that we were together that I understood that, and then when you told me that you had taken the undercover assignment, and that you had something to tell me, but I had to wait until you returned, I knew what it was: it was all over between us, you wanted your freedom, and I hated you for that. And then you returned and you were so different, I knew it was true.”

Bodie’s stricken face spoke volumes, the despair was clearly written on the handsome ex-merc’s face. “Oh, Ray, you got it all wrong. I was going to tell you . . . well; I was going to ask you if we could live together; if we could be more than just one night stand after another, if we could make love? I love you, sunshine.”

Doyle continued to stare at the man who held him, not quite understanding his words, “You . . . love me?”

“Of course, why do you think I was so jealous of Jamison? I know you were sleeping with him, and I couldn’t stand that.”

“Whoa, whoa, I haven’t slept with Patrick in twenty years. Where’d you get that idea?”

“I stopped by your flat one night to talk to you, but Jamison was there and never left.”

Doyle didn’t know whether to smack him or kiss him. “You dumb crud, he was so drunk that I wouldn’t let him drive. He slept on my settee and that’s all, besides, I think Patrick’s got a new fella.”

Bodie widened his eyes, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, why do you think that Murphy couldn’t babysit me last night?”

“You mean Murphy and . . .?”

“You bet; now how about we talk about ourselves. I’ve already told Cowley that I was planning to leave the street as soon as my assignment with the new recruit was done. Since you’ve quit, I suppose that means that my assignment is done as well, so I think I’m free to leave the streets anytime. What do you think I should do with my free time now?”

Bodie smiled, “Well, I can think of lots of things that you can do, but Ray, are you sure that you can even stand to be with me after . . . what I did?”

“Bodie, the only way I can heal completely is to move on, and I know now I want to move on with you. Whatever plans you have, I want to be included in them.”  
Bodie smiled, a drop of moisture invading his eye, “I thought I’d lost you and I was running away again, just as I’ve done all my life. I need you, Ray, but I don’t want you to sacrifice for me. If you have even a moment’s hesitation, I want you to tell me now.”

“There’s not a doubt in my mind. I want you to know that without a moment’s concern. I thought at one time that I knew you better than anyone did, but . . . well, I was kind of shaken in that for a while, but no longer. I want to get to know every inch of you, every aroma, every look, and every thought. I want us to spend the next sixty years together so that I will recognize you in every way that’s possible.” 

“Sounds good to me. Now, let’s cuddle for a while then we’ll go to Cowley, and you can tell him that you’ve decided to leave CI5 so that you can be with your lover.”  
“That ought to make his day. I’m sure he’ll hurry through my resignation after those words.”

The two men spent much of the morning getting to know each other. They were now ready to face Cowley, who surprised them immediately by insisting that both men serve out their contracts which would mean several more months under Cowley. Cowley also indicated that after they completed their contracts that he would have a proposition for them, but as of now, he had a two bedroom flat available which they could move into at any time and then told them to get out because quite frankly they were interrupting him.

As Cowley handed over Bodie’s gun and warrant card, Bodie winked at the older man and said in a teasing tone, “Running all the way, sir.”  
They decided to deliver Bodie’s already packed items to the new flat, but to sleep at Doyle’s old flat one more time. Doyle’s body was really beginning to hurt and his energy level was down to practically nothing. After an hour and a half or so, they had most of Bodie’s things somewhat arranged and were ready to go to Doyle’s. “You hungry, Angelfish?”

“A bit, but I’m more tired than hungry.”

“Ta, we’ll pick up some takeaway and then I’ll put you to bed so that you can get your rest. “

Doyle barely ate anything; he had had to force himself to eat a bit of chicken and a few chips before he headed into the loo to undress and briefly wash. Bodie checked the locks and security in the flat after he quickly cleaned up their meal; then headed towards the bedroom, but before he entered the room, he stopped. He could see the darkened figure of Doyle lying prone in the bed. Doyle was out like a light, and not only did Bodie not want to disturb him, but Bodie suddenly felt tension in his stomach as he realized that maybe Doyle didn’t want a bed partner. Doyle had needed him to get warm the night before, but did he really want Bodie in bed with him when he was fully alert?

Bodie turned around and headed towards the lounge where the settee awaited. Thousands of thoughts ran through Bodie’s mind, but the most prevalent was that Doyle hadn’t told him that he loved him, and while Bodie could live with that, he couldn’t live with forcing himself on the man who he had so cruelly, though unintentionally, used as well as hurt.

Sleepily Doyle inquired, “Where goin’?”

“I thought I’d sleep on the settee. You need your rest, and it’ll be easier if you sleep by yourself. I’ll be nearby . . . if you need me?”

Seven years of partnership and loving Bodie had made Doyle especially sensitive to the feelings behind the words of this enigmatic man, Doyle had always told himself that he could read between the lines but the last few months had badly shaken Doyle’s confidence, but hearing Bodie’s insecurity and doubt, Doyle knew what Bodie wanted to hear, “I need you here beside me; I always want the man I love to be beside me, in bed and on the street.”

Bodie, however, did not react as Doyle expected. Instead of rampant, lascivious enthusiasm, Bodie remained standing at the door to the bedroom, looking into the darkness at Doyle’s siren-like body. “I . . . I just thought . . . well, you might want to take it slow. I want you to know that we don’t ever have to do anything that you don’t want to do. I’ve learned me lesson.”

Doyle now realized as he studied Bodie’s face what his traumatised punishment of Bodie had done to the man. Doyle had told himself that he understood that Bodie had been under the influence of drugs, but it still had been very difficult to forget the pain and humiliation of the assault and the shooting. Coogan had been brilliant in his plan to bring down CI5. By using Bodie to attack Doyle, Coogan had weakened the structure that their partnership was based upon. The fact that the two men were sleeping together added to the increase in humiliation and distrust. If Doyle’s shooting within the halls of CI5 by another agent, who was also the Doyle’s lover had been spread across the papers; then Geraldine Mather and others would have used that knowledge to weaken the government’s support of the agency.

“Bodie, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry that I didn’t allow us to talk earlier. In my mind I understood about the drugs, but I told you that I was sure that you were getting ready to call us quits. I guess that’s why I punished you for so long.”

Bodie took a step into the room, a slight look of hope entering his eyes, “Do you think I don’t understand, Angelfish? I’m just thankful that you’ve let me back in your life. Most of the fault was mine. I was so afraid of committing myself ‘cause I wasn’t sure how you felt. I just didn’t know.”

“You weren’t sure you’d come back, were ya? It must have been a tough op with those terrorists.”

A brief look of despair entered the stunning blue eyes as Bodie said, “I guess you really do know me, don’t ya?”

“Well, we’re not going to have any more of that. We’ll work out our contracts, and then we’ll do something else - -TOGETHER!”

Bodie was now within arms’ reach so Doyle pulled him into the bed and put his put his arms around him. “Here’s what will do; we’ll each have a secret password that we’ll whisper into each other’s ear when we want to make sure that we are who we are. I’ll whisper the following into your ear so you know it’s me.” Doyle leaned over and whispered in Bodie’s ear.

After a moment, Bodie leaned over and said, “You naughty boy; I didn’t know you knew words like that.”

Doyle smiled, “Learned them from that old lady that I found extremely boring and repetitive - - you remember that?”

“Do I remember; I was boiling with jealousy even then. What shall I whisper in your shell-like ear, Ray?”

“Whatever you want; it’s your choice.”

Bodie sat there with his arms around Doyle and his tongue sticking out slightly and whispered, “How shall I love you, let me count the ways.”

“Didn’t you misquote that? That’s a bit sentimental, isn’t it? I’ll bet no one in CI5 would ever think that Big Bad Butch Bodie would ever be ever so romantic. That’s what they call alliteration, that is.” Doyle smiled a teasing smiling, knowing full well that Bodie had once told him about alliteration.

With a soft look in his eyes, Bodie asked, “Do you remember everything that I’ve said to you?”

Innate honesty made Doyle reply, “No, of course not. I think that’s best, don’t you?”

Remembering some of the insults that he had hurled at Doyle, Bodie nodded, sadness filling his eyes.

Doyle studied his lover and gave him a hug. “Those words are all forgot, sunshine, now I want to talk about other things. I know we can’t tell each other everything, but I want us to be able to talk to each other about anything and everything we need to. I’m not asking you to tell me everything that’s happened to you; just as there are things that I’m reluctant to tell you, but if we are truly going to be together, we need to be open and honest with each other. Doubt leads to mistrust, and I don’t want to ever have mistrust enter into our relationship again. Do you understand what I’m tryin’ to say?” Doyle knew that he was skipping over the recent mistrust that had almost destroyed their partnership, but he was determined to move on.

“I didn’t get me magna cum laude for nothing, Angelfish.”

Doyle laughed as he squeezed Bodie’s body even closer, “And in what subject area did you receive that award?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, you naughty boy?”

The two men lay down facing each other, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Bodie propped himself up on his left elbow so that he could see Doyle better. “I guess my degree is in life itself, sunshine. I thought I knew everything about livin’ until I met you. That’s when I really started livin’ and . . . I almost destroyed everything. Sorry, Angelfish.”

“No more of that. I’m just as much to blame. Coogan is off the streets and with the most recent information that’s been dug up, hopefully, he won’t ever get out. We move on - - the best is yet to be. Every day I see your face and I recognize how lucky I am to have found you.”

Bodie extended his calloused hand to caress the face he loved. His thumbed gently traced the cupid’s bow lips as Doyle sucked the finger into his mouth and gently bit it. “Shall I show you what me dissertation was about that got me my degree?”

“Love to see some of your expertise, Professor.”

Bodie pulled Doyle close, kissing his amazing lips. “By the way, Angelfish, I deliberately misquoted that line ‘cause I want you to know every way that I shall love you, that is if you want me to?”

Doyle smiled, staring into the face he loved. “I want to know every inch of you, and I want to share me considerable inches with you as well, me priapismic monster.”

Bodie smiled wistfully, “I am yours to command, but I want you to know, Ray that I will never again do anything to hurt you. We will only do things that you want to do.”

Doyle smiled, “Then the first thing I want is for you to shut up and grab hold of whatever’s available and relieve some of me needs. Then, I’ll do the same thing for you ‘cause I can tell that you are needin’ it as well.”

“I got an idea. When I was a wee lad, I was taught that the number 69 was a very nice number. How about we practice that for a while? That way we’ll always be able to recognize each other . . . in that area, at least.”

“I could recognize you anywhere, me love. Your essence follows you everywhere. You don’t need aftershave; you’ve got the Bodie fragrance.”

“Are you sayin’ I smell?”

“Sure am, and I wouldn’t have you any other way. Now hush up, ‘cause I’ve got to practice me ‘rithmetic. 69 here I come.”

After a few minutes of ‘mathmatics’, Bodie pulled his lover’s exhausted body up next to him, “I think we should get Cowley to designate us, 8.2 from now on.”  
Using his worst Irish accent, Doyle licked Bodie’s nipples and asked, “And, why would that be, boyo?”

“’Cause 4.5 + 3.7 = 8.2 and that’s the way it’s going to be from now on.”

The End

 

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End file.
